


Broken Chains

by Kirrain



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Confusion, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Drugs, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Feelings, Forced Marriage, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Love, M/M, Manipulation, Marriage, Mild Blood, Passive-aggression, Platonic Relationships, Psychological Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Trapped, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7421644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirrain/pseuds/Kirrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over one year has past since Ed and his family escaped vault 111.  His life may seem perfect on the outside, but behind the scenes that's anything but true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Life, Same Dilemmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate series inspired by characters and stories created by Tumblr's alls-well-in-the-wasteland. It is **_highly_** recommended that you familiarize yourself with her works before reading this.  
>  http://alls-well-in-the-wasteland.tumblr.com/
> 
> This is not canon to her blog, but rather explores the "what if" scenario if Lydia and John survived as Ed did.

The lights burned. Something wasn't right. Everything was blurred and out of focus. Moving was painful and the room spun erratically. Ed felt his chest pound with a threatening force, but he couldn't speak. He opened his mouth to scream but he could only elicit a few incomprehensible groans. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He didn't know where he was or what was happening, and it scared him. He tried to stand, but he couldn't establish any point of direction. In his struggle he fell; he was sure of that, but his body was so numb he barely felt it.

"Take ... now. You're ... here. Don't ... move."

He could hear words, but they were nonsensical at best. There was a powerful ringing in his ears that blocked all of his perceptions. Panic ensued as cold hands wrapped around his arms. He cried out in protest, trying but failing to defend himself. Whoever-- _what_ ever-- had him wasn't letting go.

"Think ... scared. Help ... to ... rooms."

The voice was calm, soothing, but it wasn't exactly a comfort in his great state of confusion. He twisted his waist, trying to fight, but nothing seemed to work. He didn't have any control. He called out, desperate for answers, but he was only rewarded with more unintelligible rambling.

"Rooms? Pay ... the place?" another voice, deeper and angrier echoed.

"...will."

He felt sick. He was exhausted and too sore to resist, but he continued to moan, tears streaming down his cheeks. He could see disproportionate shadows of people at his sides, dragging him away, but he had no idea where they were taking him. He heard another noise, like a door swinging open and crashing against a wall, then blacked out momentarily.

What the hell happened?

When he regained some semblance of consciousness he felt something soft under his back. The warm, cushiony sensation nearly settled his fears, but the comfort was short lived-- shattered when he felt a sharp pain pierce his arm. He wailed in protest, thrashing his head but doing nothing but causing himself more grief.

" _Shhh_ ," he heard the voice say, but the sound was so shrill it hurt. Like glass on a chalkboard. "I ... take it ... here. Thanks, Vadim."

Vadim? The name brought Ed a much needed sense of relief. He ceased his lashing, but whether it was because he gave in or simply couldn't move anymore was anyone's guess. He blinked rapidly, trying to repair his vision, but everything stayed fuzzy and discombobulated. He took a breath, his lungs tight and aching. Why couldn't he remember what happened? He cringed, every muscle straining and twitching, ruined by whatever was done to him.

"Hear me? Drugged ... trying to help."

Whoever was with him placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Everything that touched him burned, but he believed their intentions were good. At least, in his vulnerable state, he _had_ to believe they were good. He _hoped_ they were. The voice mumbled more words of encouragement, or so it sounded. He wasn't in any position to argue. He wasn't sure if he was dying or dreaming, but somehow he had past the point of caring. He just wanted to sleep. Nothing else mattered.

"That's ... rest. You're ... be okay."

Without any sense of logic or time he drifted off. He felt a hand on his forehead, then a cold, damp tingling, but soon even that faded. Darkness consumed him as black spots blocked his view. He'd never been so dizzy, so tired, in his entire life. Only one question lingered as he closed his eyes, slipping into an uncontrollable slumber.

How the hell did this happen?

***

Ed burst from the pond and inhaled loudly, welcoming the warm air. Rejuvenated, he shook his head, wagging the murky water from his short, orange hair. His goggles were scuffed with dirt and grime, but still functional. With a sigh, he pulled them over his head and adjusted his eyes to the sunlight. It was a beautiful day; bright, temperate, serene, all things that made his heart sing. When he was alone, away from his family and problems, he felt free. The thought shamed him, but he couldn't help it. The best part of every day was when he was working, far away from John and Lydia.

"Y'alright?" Sheng asked, running up to the edge of the dock. "Not gonna drown on me, are ya?"

"I'm good," Ed waved, giving the boy a friendly smile.

"So what's the damage? Is it bad?"

"There's a few things down here that shouldn't be, but it shouldn't take too long to clear."

"So, how much we talking? Pay-wise, I mean?" The boy was always quick to talk business.

"A hundred caps sound fair?"

Sheng frowned, but he didn't argue. "I guess. But you better not miss a single piece of scrap!"

"No worries," Ed laughed, giving a thumbs up. "I'll take care of it."

"You better. I ain't paying you for a job half done."

"Why the hostility?" he teased, wiping his goggles. "You know I'm not like that."

"You wouldn't be the first guy who tried to swindle me. I've had guys who did it right the first few times but fucked up later. Got lazy. Didn't care. That shit ain't gonna work on me!"

Ed didn't respond, just smiled. He had a special place in his heart for Sheng. It was hard for him, seeing children scrape by in the Commonwealth. Sheng was slow to trust and Ed, better than anyone, understood that. All he could do was prove himself through his actions, but he was fine with that. He readjusted his goggles, then took a deep breath and dove back into the water. On the plus side, whatever he salvaged he could trade, provided it was still in decent condition. He swam under the boards, seeing several pieces of junk buried in the dirt. One was an old toaster-- a good find. He couldn't quite make out the rest, though. It was dark under the huts, but it didn't matter. He pulled each object out carefully, trying to keep them intact. This was one of the many odd jobs Ed worked around town, but he performed all of them flawlessly and with pride.

When he first arrived in Diamond City he wasn't sure what to do with himself. They had barely escaped the vault, after all, but John walked through the motions unfazed and unscathed. Somehow he wormed his way into office, becoming McDonough's deputy mayor, which earned them a spot in the upper stands but left Ed comparably inconsequential. With everything provided for her, Ed played a very minor role in Lydia's welfare. That fact seemed to give John some perverse sense of accomplishment, as if he needed to outstrip Ed on all fronts. Still, he wanted to work. He wanted to do _something_ , even if it was small. He needed that purpose; needed to know his life wasn't completely irrelevant.

It had been nearly a year since they escaped Vault-Tec. Waking up half frozen, chest pinching, eyes burning, voice muted. It was a traumatic experience Ed would likely never forget. He remembered the broadcast before the bombs; the people screaming in the streets and the sheer panic that plagued everyone around him. He still had nightmares about it, but he was learning to cope. He remembered the look on Lydia's face when the news station crashed, and the anger on John's as he kicked the T.V. screen.

"Fucking commie bastards!" he screamed, cracking the glass.

"We need to get to the vault!" Lydia cried, clutching his arm.

Ed stood in silence, at a loss for words.

"Well don't just stand there!" John shrieked, pulling Ed by the collar of his shirt. "Grab everything you can and run!"

Ed shivered at the suggestion. "F-forget grabbin' shit! We gotta go _now_!"

John grit his teeth, furious for having been questioned, but he didn't argue. He grabbed Lydia's hand and dragged her out of the house, yanking her down the street. She was hysterical, too hysterical to save herself. Ed ran closely behind, yelling words of comfort, but nothing he said consoled her. How could it? The whole world was coming to an end.

The vault wasn't far. All of John's men had abandoned him, likely to make one last contact with their families, but they were still able to push through. Even amongst the chaos John flaunted his importance, hauling Lydia through the crowd and reaching the gate without incident. The compound was surrounded by soldiers, one of which who immediately impeded their progress.

"Let us in! I'm the Mayor of Concord!" John screeched.

The man cocked his gun, forcing them back. "I don't care who you are! If you're not on the list you're not gettin' through!"

"We _are_ on the list, you imbecile! Mayor John Bell and his sister, Lydia Smith!"

The soldier skimmed the names. "Yeah, I see ya. And him?" he asked, pointing to Ed.

"That's Edward!" Lydia cried, trying to drown out the screams of the people behind her. "We're married!"

"He's not on the list."

Ed paled, flashing John a terrified glance, who only responded with a shrug. He was responsible for the registration, and he assured Ed he had taken care of it months ago. The only question now was whether or not he'd neglected Ed on purpose, or if he assumed that spouses were automatically included.

"Please!" Lydia sobbed, digging her nails into John. "I'm not leaving him!"

John cringed at her frantic expression, then faced the solider. "Let him in!"

"I can't! There's only enough room for the people on the list! If I let him in I have to make exceptions for everyone! Make your choice!"

John growled, then pulled his sister's arm violently. "Let's go, Lydia!"

"No! I'm not leaving him here!"

"We don't have time for this! Let's _go_!"

"No! I can't! I can't! I _can't_!"

There was no reasoning with her in this state. She was terrible at dealing with emotions, especially in the case of fear. It was possible she didn't even know where she was or what was happening. If it kept up, John would have to carrying her through the gates himself.

Sirens began to blare in the distance, causing the crowd to fight, but the soldiers kept them at bay, whirring their miniguns. It wouldn't be long now; death was surely only a few ticks away. That realization made Ed tremble with fear, but swallow courageously. If he had to die, he wasn't about to let Lydia die with him. He squinted sadly and put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's all right," he said, holding her tight. "Go."

"No!" she screamed, tears flailing. "I won't leave you here! Please! _Please_!"

"John's right. There's no time. You have to go."

"No! No, no!"

"God damn it, Lydia! We're leaving!" John tried to force her, but she struggled impulsively.

"No! I'm not leaving Edward! I'm not!"

Before Ed could attempt to persuade her, a man pushed past him, nearly knocking him off his feet. It wasn't vindictive, just rushed; he even apologized. Ed stepped back, nearly bumping the woman who accompanied his anxious jostler.

"Let us through!" the man begged. "We're on the list!"

"We were here first!" John sneered, pushing him back.

"Please! My wife is pregnant! We need to get in there! Our last name is Filler! Ethan and Cheryl Filler!"

The soldier scanned the notepad, then nodded. "You're here. Okay, head on in."

"Thank you!" the man cried, running back to help his wife. "Come on, honey. Just a bit further. _Thank_ you!"

John snarled, annoyed by their good fortune, as Lydia continued to writhe against him, desperate to escape his grasp. He knew he couldn't convince her to leave, and he didn't want to knock her out, if he could help it.

The couple smiled gratefully as they past Ed, who instinctively helped the woman up the hill. John scowled, riled by each step they took. The closer they got the angrier he became, until a rush of fury erupted inside him. He swung Lydia behind his back and pulled his golden M1911 colt from his pants. Without hesitating, he pulled the trigger, shooting the man point-blank between the eyes. The sound was nearly overshadowed by the crowd's screaming, but the blood was enough to send those in view of the scene scurrying back.

Ed watched in horror as the man flew a few inches downward, his wife frozen in a brief bout of denial. When the body stopped rolling, she brought her hands to her face and screamed with a verve that would haunt Ed's dreams forever. She stumbled down the hill, falling and scraping her knees against the dirt, then crawled to her husband and shook him fiercely.

"Ethan ... Ethan?!" she cried, her face twisted in agony. "Oh, _God_! No! No, _please_! Ethan! Ethan! _Ethan_!"

Ed's head spun at the sight, on the verge of breaking. Blood seeped into his shirt, having been hit by the after-spray. He shot John a sickened, petrified look, but the man simply shrugged, not the least bit dissuaded. He turned to the soldier, who was every bit as bothered by John's stoic expression as Ed was.

"What do you know?" he grinned. "Looks like there's room after all."

***

Ed shook his head. Why was he torturing himself, thinking about that day? He knew it wasn't his fault, but he always felt guilty about it. The woman and her unborn child, and her husband, who was just trying to save his family. There was no excuse.

"You okay?" Sheng asked, handing Ed a towel. "You're pale as shit. Didn't drink any of that water, did ya? It ain't purified, you know."

Ed chuckled softly. "I'm fine."

"That everything?" the boy asked, crossing his arms.

"Everything I could find. If there's more down there it's invisible."

"Well, we'll know for sure in a few days. If the water's still gross I want my money back."

"Sounds fair."

"Damn right! Not that I'm worried, though. Little things don't affect it. Just the big stuff. Like those circuit boards you found." He sighed and handed Ed a small bag of caps. "If you say you got it all, I guess I'll believe ya. For now."

"Thanks."

"Whatever. So, what you gonna do now? Head home?"

"Just have to make a delivery to the Dugout Inn. The caravan'll be here soon and they hired me to carry the boxes. Some extra caps in my pocket. Plus I can trade this salvage."

" _Pfft_. If you say so." He turned away, collecting the bottles from his display to pack up for the night. "Same time next month?"

Ed smiled. "Sounds good to me."

"Why are you so peppy?" Sheng groaned. "Jeez, I can't believe a guy like you hasn't been eaten alive yet. You gotta be tough like me! Don't take shit from no one!"

"Sure," Ed beamed, patting the top of the boy's bald head.

Sheng slapped his hand shyly. "Kn-knock it off! I'm not some kid that needs pampering! And anyway, you better get a move on. The caravans don't like waiting. They got places to be."

"Thanks, Sheng. Nice workin' with ya."

Sheng wiped his nose, trying to hide his sliver of admiration. He didn't like a lot of people, but Ed was different. He was cautious around him, certainly, but something about Ed always brought out the best in people. He watched as Ed waved goodbye and made his way back to the market, avoiding the puddles he'd left on the docks. Before he faded completely, the boy ran to the edge and shouted through cupped fingers.

"Hey! Remember what I said, Ed! Don't take shit from no one!"

***

The moment Ed opened the doors, he was bombarded with the smell of smoke and alcohol. He'd gotten used to it, but part of him was still repulsed by the company it kept. He got along well enough with Vadim and his brother; it was usually the scavengers and traders coming in off the streets that made the place less bearable, but they never stayed long. They weren't allowed to.

He smiled at Scarlett, who rushed over to help with the boxes. "Hey, kiddo. How's it goin'?"

"Well, actually--" She bit her lip, visibly disturbed.

"What's wrong?" Ed asked, immediately concerned.

She sighed, then pointed down the hall. "I'll handle these. Someone's been asking for you."

"Huh? For _me_? Who?"

"You'll see. First table, right in the centre."

Ed whinged, worried by her tone and expression. From that alone, he was able to guess who it was. He nodded in thanks, leaving the boxes by the door, then worked his way down the hall. The smoke was so acrid, but the dim lights made it easy to see. Sure enough, the centre table was occupied by five men, one of which who made Ed's stomach turn.

John. Of course it was John. He sat at the end with an empty chair beside him. All of the men had drinks and cigars, but only John was dressed in a white suit-- or at least as white as it could be-- with a blue tie and pocket square. He looked out of place, but the others didn't. They looked like typical thugs, no different than the scum that caused trouble outside the wall. Ed rubbed his eyes, making sure he wasn't dreaming. John would never associate with people like them; yet there he was, laughing and sharing a drink.

"Ed!" John rumbled, his voice dubious. "I heard you were doing delivers here. Come on over! Meet the boys!"

Ed hesitated. He wanted to go home. Seeing his malicious brother-in-law with so many assumed bodyguards was worrying, but he wasn't prepared for the headache it would cause if he refused. He took a breath through his nose and slowly joined them at the table.

"John," he said, almost in a whisper.

John grinned and grabbed his arm, violently pulling him into the empty seat. Ed grunted when he hit the wood, having the wind knocked out of him. As he fought for air, John threw his arm over Ed's shoulders and slapped his chest, but quickly gagged. He glared at Ed, as if taken by surprise, then leaned in and sniffed his hair intrusively.

"The hell? You smell like shit. Like mould and rotten eggs."

Ed shrunk down, trying to avoid the attention. "Well, I was helping Sheng clean the--"

"Oh, that's right! Lydia said something about that. You were on _garbage_ duty today. No wonder you smell like stale compost!"

"Well, I--"

"Guys!" John roared, addressing the table. "This is my good-for-nothing brother-in-law."

Ed groaned, then looked around. He didn't recognize any of the men, except for one. Oscar. He could always spot Oscar. The man was brawny, intimidating, and he had a large scar on the right side of his face, reaching from his cheek to his eyebrow. He never spoke, but he followed John around like a puppy, growling at anyone who got too close.

"So you're the infamous Edward we've been hearin' so much about?" one of the men chimed.

"Infamous?"

"Sure. John here talks about ya all the time!"

Ed blushed. "Anything good?"

The men erupted in laughter. They were easily the loudest people in the bar and they were clearly disrupting the other customers, but no one dared confront the deputy mayor. John had a reputation for being ruthless, especially to those in the lower levels of the city. In fact, seeing him in the Dugout Inn was rare, as his tastes usually called for higher quality products. He very much preferred the sophisticated essence of the Colonial Taphouse and the special treatment afforded to someone of his calibre. Truthfully, Ed was shocked he came down from the stands at all. He sighed softly, knowing John must have had some ulterior motive.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, John!" one of the men shouted. "This guy's great! 'Anything good?' Priceless!"

Ed hunched down. He wasn't sure how long they'd been there, but they reeked of alcohol and their boisterous conduct made him nervous. He inched away, escaping John's unfriendly grasp, but before he could stand John waved to Vadim.

"Bring us more of that swill!" he yelled. Vadim scoffed, annoyed by the demand and insult. "You heard me! The strongest you've got! We're celebrating!"

Vadim crossed his arms, refusing to move, but his brother quickly obliged. He grabbed as much as he could carry, nudging Vadim worriedly. With his back turned to John's table, he whispered, "We don't want any trouble. Just do as he says." Vadim shook his head, but ultimately handed him some cups. Yefim nodded gratefully and dashed to the table, placing two large bottles of whisky in front of John and thanking him for his patronage. Vadim retched at the display, disgusted by Yefim's incessant grovelling, but he didn't intervene.

"I guess this'll do," John spat, tapping the glass. "It's complimentary, of course. For your beloved deputy mayor?"

Yefim perspired at the words. "Oh, w-well, those are expensive bottles of--"

"It seems the least you can do," John beamed, his smile almost sinister. "After all, I'm the one who keeps your property taxes so low."

Ed glared at Yefim sympathetically, as if apologizing for the entire group. The threat wasn't lost on him, even though his main concern was finding a way to leave. Yefim responded with a subtle nod, then walked away. He didn't dare tell Vadim what had just transpired. Instead, he pretended to slip some caps into his jacket and returned to waiting the bedrooms.

"What are we celebrating?" Ed asked, almost afraid to know.

"What? You mean you forgot? Really?" Ed blinked, confused. "My God, man. You really don't know? Do the math. What day is it today?"

He gave Ed a minute to work the equation. They all had Pip-Boys, but Ed generally left his at home. The date was slightly inaccurate, but it was easy to calculate the correct day. Once Ed figured it out his eyes widened, his hands clutched together in his lap.

"My ... birthday."

"That's right!" John cheered, slapping his back. "It's been a tough year and I know I'm hard on you sometimes, so I wanted to do a little something to make this day special. Now I know you're not much of a drinker, but this is some good shit! Or so I'm told. _I_ don't like it that much, but these guys assure me it's the best of the best." He grabbed a glass and popped the lid, smiling at the whiskey's evil hiss, then poured some for Ed. "Bottoms up, gentlemen!"

The men cheered, lifting their beers and clinking the bottles. Ed watched warily as they drank, refusing to follow. When they finished, they stared at him, noting the untouched glass. Oscar huffed, gesturing to the drink, but Ed shook his head respectfully, determined to stay sober.

"Thanks, John. I appreciate the offer, but I don't think it's a good idea."

John scowled, causing Ed to flinch. "Are you refusing my hospitality?"

"Kinda rude," one of the men jibed. "I mean, he came all the way down here just to celebrate with you. The least ya can do is take a swig."

"I-I don't mean to be rude. It's just, this is strong stuff and--"

"What's the matter, Ed? Can't hold your liquor? What kinda man are ya?"

John laughed at the comment. "He has a point, Ed. Only a woman would have trouble with a drink like this."

One of the men reached across and grabbed the bottle, then brought it to his nose. "Aw, this shit ain't strong. It's child's play. I drink stronger shit than this for breakfast!"

That explains a lot, Ed thought. "Really. I'm not like you guys. I have a beer and I get tipsy. Whiskey'll burn my throat out."

The man beside him grabbed his thigh and pulled him sideways, forcing his legs apart. The sudden contact caused Ed to yelp and jerk back, but the man kept his fingers dug into his sensitive skin, squeezing tightly.

"Ya sure ya got a dick down there?" the man snorted, taking a puff of his cigar.

"I wonder that sometimes myself," John chuckled.

"Please stop," Ed begged, his cheeks blazing.

"Hmm?" The man let go, picking up on Ed's discomfort. "Hey, man, we're just try'na have some fun with ya. We're only in town for the night and John here said you'd be down to celebrate."

He looked at John aimlessly. "Why would you--?"

"Just have _one_ drink," the man pushed. "Who knows? You might like it."

Ed cringed, sweat dripping down his forehead. He looked at the glass, bubbling with browned whiskey. Sighing, he wrapped his fingers around the base. Just one drink. What could it hurt? Maybe it would satisfy them enough to let him go. He just wanted the night to be over, and if this is what it took to make that happen then so be it. He gulped, preparing for the scorching heat, then brought the rim of the cup to his lips. The smell was vile; so vile it made his eyes water. He told himself it would be over soon. It was just one drink.

Just. One. Drink.

He tilted his head and swallowed quickly, downing half of the fiery liquid. It burned his throat as he suspected, causing his eyes to narrow and saturate. He couldn't drink the whole thing; it was too intense. A grisly noise pushed its way up his oesophagus until he gagged and nearly dropped the glass, hacking loudly. The men laughed and clapped sarcastically, greatly amused by his efforts.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" John laughed, brutally whacking Ed's back.

"It was horrible..." he wheezed, barely cognisant.

"Ya don't do it for the taste!" the man next to him grinned. "Ya do it for the high. Ya gotta drink more than that."

"I can't."

"Sure ya can! Try again. It's easier the second time. Most of the feelin' in your throat'll be gone now."

"Come on!" another contended. "Be a man!"

Ed wiped his eyes, completely trapped. There was nothing he could do. If he tried to argue he knew John would berate him later, and likely in front of Lydia. With a heavy groan, he snatched the drink and chugged it down. Much to his surprise, it really _wasn't_ as bad the second time. He blinked, shocked by the smooth flavour.

"See? Not bad, right? I told ya."

"I guess," he hummed, bucking his shoulders.

"Well, I think that's enough excitement for me," John announced, raising to his feet. Oscar joined him with a grunt. "You guys take care of my brother-in-law. He's useless but he's family. Show him a good time."

"Wait, what?"

Ed attempted to stand, but John held him down. "You don't intend to let those bottles go to waste, do you?"

"But ... but I can't drink all this!"

John laughed loudly. "It's not _all_ for you. It's for everyone. Birthday boy gets the first drink. Now you share."

Ed gyrated in his chair, looking at the men, then back at John. "You're ... you're leaving me here?"

"I'm the deputy mayor," he stressed. "I can't be seen getting wasted in a place like this. Buying drinks for my bother's one thing, but getting inebriated with a bunch of scavengers? Not good for publicity. No offence."

"None taken!" one of the men cackled as he opened the second bottle.

"You kids have fun, then. Just try to be responsible about it. Remember, you have to be home by dark. I'll be staying at the office tonight and I don't like Lydia being alone at night."

"Then I'll go now!" Ed cried, extremely bereft by the situation.

John had never been so cordial. He hated Ed; he always treated him like dirt. Something was definitely off.

"No, no. Stay. Have fun. Enjoy your birthday. Honestly, I know I'm hard on you sometimes, but you deserve this much at least. After everything we've lost?"

Ed paused, but continued to squabble. "But--"

"Oh, _enough_!" John hissed, smacking his forehead. "Jesus, you're hopeless. You just can't take a hint, can you?"

"Wh-what?"

"Lydia has a special dinner planned for you, but it's taking her a while to get things ready so she asked me to stall you. It was supposed to be a surprise, but you're fucking impossible to please. For the love of God, stay here and stop arguing."

Ed blushed. That actually made sense. A hint of guilt settled in his stomach as he relaxed in his chair. A smile formed on his face, shaped by the idea of his wife remembering his birthday. Even after everything they'd suffered, she still cared.

"I'm ... I'm sorry," he whispered, looking up at John. "I-I didn't mean to--"

"It's fine. Just _pretend_ to be surprised, okay? She worked hard on this."

"I-I will."

John rolled his eyes, nudging Oscar and heading for the exit. Vadim and the other patrons weren't above expressing their joy to see him leave. The second they were gone, the bar erupted in laugher and cheer. John was not well liked; at least not by the people in the lower stands, but he was powerful and not to be trifled with. Anyone who opposed him often wound up dead or missing. He blamed it on the Institute, but most residents knew truth. Even Piper was afraid to cross him, though Ed wasn't sure why. Bile rose in his throat as he wondered just how John managed to silence her.

"Yoo-hoo!" one of the men echoed, tapping Ed's shoulder. "Anybody in there? Or has the whiskey already gotten to ya?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I'm fine."

"Well great. Then join us for another drink!"

"N-no. I think one's enough."

"Aw, c'mon. One more! Just so ya can feel it! It won't hurt ya!"

"Well..." Ed shrugged, utterly defeated. "I guess that'd be okay."

Just one more.

***

How much time had past? Ed couldn't tell. He remembered having a second drink, but after that everything was a blur. How many did he actually have? Three? Four? He couldn't recall. He could've sworn it was only two, but his body felt heavy, like it was coated in cement. His head spun-- definitely indicative of intoxication-- but there was something more. He'd been drunk a few times in college, but this was worse. _Painful_ even. He gripped the edge of the table for purchase, then staggered to his feet.

"Y'alright, man? Somethin' wrong?"

"I, uh ... I don't feel so--" He lurched forward, feeling a flame in his chest, then puked, spilling his mess onto the table.

Yefim ran over, having witnessed the revolting spectacle. "The hell?! He's drunk! Get him out of my bar!"

"Don't be so hard on him!" Vadim yelled. "It's Ed! Give him break!"

"You would side with him!" Yefim barked. " _You're_ not the one who has to clean this!"

"So sorry," one of the men chuckled, throwing Ed's arm over his shoulders. "We'll take him home."

"See that you do," Vadim warned. "He's my friend. Get him there safely."

"Sure thing, big guy. Ya got nothin' to worry about."

Vadim frowned. He didn't trust them, but he was far too busy to accompany them. He rushed back to work, serving more customers, while Yefim waved them away. The men apologized again, dragging Ed down the hall. Scarlett followed them out, also suspicious of their intentions. She spoke to Ed, but he only responded with unintelligible moans.

"He'll be fine," one of the men assured. "Just needs to sleep it off."

"Do you know where he lives?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah, the mayor told us. Up in the stands. Don't worry, sweet cheeks. We'll get 'im there."

Scarlett winced, sickened by the nickname. "Just ... make sure he gets home safe, all right? I've never seen him drunk before."

"He's in good hands," the man smiled as he helped Ed hobble out the door. "Ya have yourself a good night."

He kicked the door closed behind him, joining his fellow colleagues. When in the clear, his pleasant smile vanished and his gentle nature was replaced with spite. He quickly dragged Ed across the street, not the least bit fazed by his protests as he feet scraped across the gravel.

"That was close," the man sneered. "Almost thought the bitch was gonna follow us the whole way there."

"At this time a night? They're way too busy. Can't spare anyone, not even to help a so-called friend."

"Whaddaya wanna do with 'im?"

"Just dump 'im in the alley. No one'll find 'im. And even if they do, it'll be too late."

"Sounds good to me."

The man curved his shoulders, letting Ed drop and crash to the ground. He cried out, every second growing more painful than the last. He looked up, clutching his stomach and feeling faint. He could barely see the men surrounding him, but he knew they were still there. He moaned loudly and reached out, gripping one's shoe, but whoever he grabbed roughly kicked his hand away.

"Please..." he coughed, his insides boiling. "Help ... me."

"Help him!" one of them laughed. "Do ya hear this guy?"

"What a cunt. I get why that rich prick hates him so much."

"I don't. I actually think he's an okay guy."

"Doesn't matter. All that matters is we got paid. Now get your shit 'n lets get outta here."

Ed rolled onto his side, hacking loudly, struggling to breath. "Please ... please help."

"Almost sad, ain't it?" one of the men sulked, poking him with his foot. "Sorry, man. Nothin' personal. Just business."

"C'mon! Let's get outta here before someone sees!"

Ed mumbled softly, losing his strength. He heard their footsteps fade in the distance, and at that moment he knew he was alone. Terror consumed him as he tried to crawl out of the alley, but he could barely move an inch. He puked again, choking on his own filth. Tears poured down his cheeks as he wheezed through clenched teeth. He tried to scream but nothing came out.

Was this it? Was he going to die?

He forced himself onto his stomach, using the last of his strength. He had never felt so physically ill; and what's worse, his mind began to deteriorate as well. He quickly forgot where he was and what had happened to him. He wept at the confusion, scared and desperate for aid.

Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he speak? What the hell was happening?

"Just as I thought," a woman said, her voice ringing in his ears.

"Wh-who--? He squinted, trying to see the dark figure standing over him.

"Looks like you ran with the wrong crowd, mister. You should pick your friends more wisely."

"Nmm ... friends. Plsss ... hel' me."

"Don't worry," she whispered, placing a gentle hand on his back. "I intend to."


	2. Rough Dreams, Rough Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being left in the alleyways to die, Ed is saved by a mysterious stranger. While recovering, he remembers times even less joyful.

The bar was bustling, filled with drunks and stoners looking for their next fix. Vadim almost didn't notice the woman burst through the doors, dragging Ed over her shoulders. She was clearly overwhelmed, being quite a bit smaller than Ed, and carrying a man on the verge of collapsing isn't an easy task for anyone. Her knees shook as Vadim ran to her aid, his arms outstretched to catch her.

"Keira! Is that Ed? What happened?"

__

"I found him in the alley outside. He isn't looking too good." Ed mumbled, but couldn't form a coherent sentence. "My Geiger counter's doing cartwheels. He definitely has radiation poisoning."

__

"What?" Vadim yelled in his thick European accent. "How'd this happen?"

__

"I have a theory, but for now just give me a hand, okay?"

__

Vadim nodded, slipping to Ed's side and taking the brunt of his weight. Ed cried out in protest, terrified, but Vadim held him still as they moved down the hall.

__

"Take it easy, now. You're safe here. Don't try to move," Keira warned, but Ed continued to struggle. "I think he's scared. Help me get him to one of your rooms."

__

"One of the rooms?" Yefim yelled, rushing over. "Who's going to pay for it if he pukes all over the place?!"

__

" _I_ will," the woman scorned, annoyed by Yefim's lack of sympathy.

__

Vadim glowered at his brother, who simply shrugged and walked away, leaving them to their devices. It wasn't as though Yefim had any personal hatred for Ed, he just valued his bar more than his customers. As far as he was concerned, Ed was simply drunk, and he'd be sure to collect if he ruined the place.

__

Keira gestured to Vadim, hurriedly pulling the two of them through the hall. He wasn't sure why Keira was in such a rush, but he didn't stop to complain. He helped her carry Ed along, making extra sure to be gentle. Ed was his friend, after all, and he hated seeing the man in such an ailing state. When they reached a vacant room Ed dropped his head, passing out, but not before Vadim kicked open the door with a crash.

__

"Get him on the bed," Keira ordered, her voice almost panicked.

__

"What is wrong with him?" Vadim asked again, but she didn't answer.

__

Instead, she slid her backpack off her shoulders and dropped to the floor, unzipping it quickly. Vadim bit his cheek and carefully lowered the unconscious Ed onto the bed, nursing his head onto the pillow. He looked pale, sickly-- far worse than drunk. He was covered in sweat and his chest heaved sporadically. It was at that moment that Vadim started to worry.

__

"Keira?"

__

Almost as soon as he spoke, the woman stood and pulled a pack of RadAway out of her bag. She ran to the wall, grabbing a tall coat hanger, then swiftly positioned it beside the bed. In a flash, she hooked the RadAway to one of the pegs, fixing it securely, then rolled up Ed's sleeve and jammed the needle into his arm. The cruel sting forced him awake and he screamed, flailing his head and trying to fight. Horrified, Vadim went to hold him down, but Keira shook her head with a smile.

__

"I can take it from here. Thanks, Vadim."

__

Hearing the name, Ed calmed, as if pacified by something familiar. Seeing him unwind, Keira tapped Vadim's chest and gently pushed him to the door, just far enough so that Ed couldn't hear them.

__

"Why push me out?" Vadim asked, perplexed.

__

"He's confused right now. The less people he has around him, the better. And your voice is ... really gruff. It might scare him. All of his perceptions are--" She stopped mid-sentence, realizing Vadim wouldn't understand a medical explanation. "His ears are fucked up. Everything he hears causes him pain."

__

"But I don't understand. What's _wrong_ with him?"

__

"Those men he left with. I just happened to be passing by, but I couldn't help notice. I've seen them before. They're mercs and chem dealers. Not sure what they were doing with your friend here, but it looks like they drugged him."

__

"Bastards!" Vadim hissed, his eyes burning with rage. "I knew they were--!"

__

" _Shh_ ," Keira lisped, covering his mouth. "Don't yell. For his sake, please. I know you're angry, but--"

__

"Angry? _Angry_? _Eto pizdets_!? When I'm done with them they'll be nothing but _der'mo_ on the pavement!"

__

Keira sighed, directing him to the hall. "Please. Just let me take care of it. Right now, his health is what matters. Right?"

__

Vadim took deep a breath, finding his centre. He knew she was right, but it didn't settle his fury. He wasn't going to argue, though. He still wanted to crack the skulls of the men responsible, but he agreed that Ed's safety took precedence.

__

"Can I help? Do you need anything?"

__

"Just silence. He needs to rest."

__

"What about doctor?"

__

"I have everything I need here. And honestly ... I don't really trust that Crocker guy."

__

Vadim frowned, looking over her and watching Ed roll around on the bed. His moans pained him and he knew he was unwell, but he trusted Keira. After everything she'd done for him and Travis, he had no reason doubt her.

__

"Okay. You take care of him."

__

"I will. Uh ... what did you say his name was?"

__

"Ed. He is good man. Very quiet and bit of baby, but good man."

__

"All right. Don't worry. I'll have him on his feet in no time."

__

"If you need anything, ask. I will get."

__

"Thanks, Vadim. Stay close by. I'll keep you updated."

__

She closed the door carefully, so as not to startle her patient. She could hear the boisterous bartender on the other side, swearing blindly, still infuriated by the whole situation. She didn't blame him; anyone would be upset, but sometimes Vadim acted too recklessly. Had she not calmed him, he might have gone on a rampage through the city, trying to find the mercs and likely getting himself killed.

__

"W-wer ... my ... h-hel 'n be--"

__

Keira ran to the man's side, checking his pulse. "Ed, can you hear me? You've been drugged. I'm just trying to help."

__

He moaned weakly, trying to speak as he trembled both from fear and the poison coursing through his veins. He needed relief, but he couldn't find any. Keira brought her hand to his cheek to console him, but the moment she touched his face she gasped, his skin practically on fire.

__

"Damn it," she whispered, reaching into her bag. "Just hold on."

__

She grabbed a cloth and a bottle of purified water. In an instant she popped the cap and soaked the material, then gently placed it over his forehead. Ed huffed at the cool feeling, comforted by the change. With the RadAway working its magic, his body began to settle as his eyelids closed, concealing his tears.

__

"That's it, just rest. You're gonna be okay."

__

Ed mumbled at the words, but he couldn't respond. Within a matter of minutes he was out cold, his heart pounding but his mind unable to cope. Keira sighed, checking his pulse once more. It was erratic and definitely life-threatening. If she didn't flush the chems from his system soon, he'd surely die. She grabbed her pack again, reaching into the front compartment for an inhaler of Addictol.

__

"I wonder what they drugged you with," she sighed. "I guess it doesn't really matter. As long as I get this in you, you should be okay."

__

She shook the container, making sure the compound was thoroughly mixed. Ed groaned in his sleep, his muscles flexing, ruined by the combination of chems, radiation, and alcohol. As he writhed in pain, Keira cupped his chin, opening his mouth and sliding the cylinder past his teeth. He gagged slightly, then coughed as Keira plugged his nose and forced the solution down his throat. She could tell he was uncomfortable, but luckily he wasn't in any condition to fight. He laid still as she squeezed the trigger, exhausting the tube.

__

"I don't have a lot of these. I don't use chems, so--" She explored her bag, removing three more inhalers. "This is all I have. I hope it's enough." She traced her Pip-Boy over the body, reading his stats. "Still too high," she groaned. "It's going to take more than one pouch to clear the rads from your system." She pulled two more packs from her bag, then sighed with half a smile. "Oh, you're gettin' a bill."

__

***

__

Ed stood in silence, staring at the dead man before him. The woman screamed in horror, begging, praying for her husband to wake. Blood spilled from the open wound and down the hill, staining the grass. For a moment, Ed thought he was dreaming. He hoped he was. He was _certain_ it was a nightmare. He looked at his hand, seeing splotches of red on his sleeve. If not for the bomb dropping in the distance, creating a near-blinding flash, he would've fainted right then and there.

__

"Let's go!" John shrieked, dragging Ed and Lydia through the gate.

__

The soldier didn't argue, petrified by the blast. The crowd screamed and ran in every direction, lost in the ultimate panic. Not John, though; his destination was clear. As the fire burned in the background, roaring and spreading closer, he managed to pull all three of them to the landing pad just as the doors began to close. They hit the floor with a loud thud, but most of the residents were too shaken to notice. As the ceiling sealed above them, John couldn't help but snigger at his luck.

__

When they reached the bottom they were greeted by an overseer, who did his best to calm the people with promises of a new, better life. Ed and Lydia stood behind John, silent and horrified, but John was quick to address those in charge. He was immediately recognized as the Mayor of Concord and called to the sidelines, invited to discuss his new lodgings. He was more than happy to oblige, leaving his traumatized family alone on the pad.

__

Still shaking, Ed glanced over to his wife, who looked more of a mess than he did. It took him a while before he felt strong enough to say anything, but when he did he showed only the deepest concern.

__

"Lydia," he whispered, brushing the back of her hand.

__

She looked up, her face drenched in tears. "Everything's gone, isn't it?"

__

Ed bit his lip. He wasn't sure what to say, but he didn't want to stay silent for too long. He knew she needed some kind of reassurance, even if it was a blatant lie. Of course everything was gone, but he needed a way around that. He needed tiptoe, choosing his words carefully, so as not to upset her further.

__

"We made it. We'll be okay," was all he could muster.

__

"What happened to your shirt?" she asked, noticing the blood.

__

Ed grit his teeth. Of course she didn't remember. She wouldn't be able to cope with such a sight. It's only natural that her mind wiped the memory; probably as soon as it occurred. He switched sides, so as not to dirty her clothes, then wrapped his clean fingers around hers, holding tight.

__

"I was painting. Remember?"

__

"Were you? All this chaos ... I can't really remember what we were doing."

__

"You were watching T.V. and I was painting."

__

"Oh."

__

"You two. Follow me, please." A member of the staff waved to them, directing them to where John was standing. "We have the best rooms lined up for you. Just follow me and we'll have you decontaminated before orientation."

__

"Very well," John said, but growled when he saw Ed holding Lydia's hand. "Lydia, come with me," he barked, gently pulling her away.

__

Ed whined as she slipped through his fingers. "But--"

__

" _You_ need to get changed," he smirked.

__

Ed's pupils constricted to thin dots, nearly turning invisible. John had no remorse for what he had done. He shot and killed an innocent man in cold blood, leaving his pregnant wife to die-- and it was because of _him_. Ed shuddered and buried his face in his hand, his eyes wide with terror. If he hadn't been there, would that woman and her husband still be alive?

__

"Oh, don't worry about that!" the staff member chirped, pulling Ed out of his stupor. " _Everyone_ has to change. Into vault suits."

__

"Vault suits?" John sneered, annoyed that he'd have to remove his tux.

__

"I promise you, they're the latest in modern fashion. Everything you brought in from the outside will have to be disposed of, just in case of radiation damage. Just follow me and we'll get you settled in nicely."

__

They did as asked, legging behind the oddly exuberant man until they reached a narrow hallway. Ed was more than happy to get out of his blood-stained clothes, but Lydia took some convincing. There was very little privacy; everyone was expected to strip in public, so Ed covered her with his body, promising that no one would see. John spat, contributing by threatening anyone who looked in their direction.

__

When they were decent, the worker led them into one of the chambers, showing them a column of strange pods. Ed cringed, unnerved by the sight of them, but for Lydia's sake he playacted. He smiled, telling her that everything would be all right, then helped her into the casing. He promised he'd be right beside her, then watched as the other residents entered their pods without hesitation.

__

"Now, please. We have to move this along. Orientation starts in five minutes."

__

"R-right," he stuttered, looking up at Lydia. "I guess this is our new life."

__

"Y-yeah. I guess so."

__

"Don't be scared. We'll make something good out of it."

__

With that comforting thought, he kissed her hand and moved to the pod beside her. John had already settled into his, impatient and angered for having lost his suit and belongings. Ed couldn't believe it; it was like John didn't care what happened to the world, but that wasn't important now. Ed sighed, stepping into the odd contraption and taking a seat on the padded chair. It was cosy, but something in air was bothersome.

__

The worker smiled as he hit the switch and sealed the door, locking Ed inside. In an instant, Ed's breathing quickened, feeling something cold creep down his throat. He didn't like small spaces to begin with, but hearing the automated countdown sent shivers up his spine. When the computer reached its final number, he felt his body freeze. Ice formed on his clothes, sending him into a blind panic. He cried out, reaching for the door but scrambling when he couldn't find a handle. Something was very wrong. This wasn't decontamination.

__

This wasn't--!

__

***

__

Ed woke with a gag, his voice weak and laced with panic. It took him a minute to realize he had been dreaming, remembering a time he could only hope to someday forget. He was covered in sweat, but he felt cold; like he'd been caught in the rain. Catching his breath, he leaned against the bedpost, his head still throbbing. He felt nauseous, but he held it down, desperate for some level of normalcy.

__

"Easy," Keira said, stepping out of the shadows.

__

Ed flailed at the sight. "Wh-who are you?!" he wheezed, clutching the sheets.

__

"A friend of Vadim's," she whispered, her voice calm. "You're in the Dugout Inn."

__

"The ... the Dugout ... what?"

__

She stood back, giving him some space. "Do you know your name?"

__

"Wh-what?"

__

"Your _name_. Do you know it? Do you know where you are? This is important. Try to focus."

__

Ed took a while to answer, calming his nerves, but the woman didn't seem to mind. She stood silently with bated breath, her expression peaceful. She didn't try to force the subject; in fact, she was munificently patient, but clearly worried.

__

"I'm ... Ed. Edward, but Ed. And you just told me ... I'm in the Dugout Inn."

__

"Good. Now just let me--" She brought her hands to his face, but he cowered, slumping down on the mattress. "It's okay," she soothed, pulling the sheets up to his chest. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just trying to check your eyes."

__

"Wh-what for?" he asked, his shoulders trembling.

__

"You fainted., and I don't know if you hit your head. I just want to make sure all of your motor functions are working properly."

__

Ed hesitated, but he was too tired to argue. He sat up, letting her examine his vision. He followed her finger upon request, then focused on her face. She was beautiful. Clean. He had rarely seen a woman as striking as her since the bombs fell. Her hair was red, like his, only far darker; almost the colour of crimson. Short, but it sent a powerful message, one that said she wasn't to be trifled with. Her eyes were deep green and stern, but they glowed with a determination Ed had long abandoned.

__

"Good," she said, moving away. "Still not a hundred percent, but better than you were. And it feels like your fever's dropped, too. Still, I recommend you stay it bed a bit longer. And maybe take some more medicine."

__

"M-medicine?" he asked, noticing the IV in his arm. Gasping, he tried to remove it, but the woman shook her head, holding it in place. "Wh-what _is_ this?!" he cried, accidentally scratching her knuckles. She ripped back, undoubtedly pained, causing Ed to whimper guilty. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean--!"

__

" _Shh_. It's okay, it's just RadAway. I'm just trying to flush the rads from your system."

__

"Rads?" he cringed, staring at the bag. "What ... what happened to me?"

__

"You don't remember? I'm guess I'm not exactly surprised. Why don't you tell me what you _do_ remember?"

__

"I ... remember feeling sick. I remember John." He rubbed his eyes, his head aching. "I remember ... those guys. Yeah, those guys he was with. They kept forcing me to drink."

__

"Yeah, _them_ ," Keira said, her tone spiteful.

__

He may have been high, but Ed easily sensed her ire. "Do you know them?"

__

"I've seen them around. They're mercenaries, and the worst possible kind."

__

"M-mercenaries?! Here? In Diamond City? No, that ... that's impossible. Danny'd never let them past the gate."

__

"That John guy probably hired them for extra protection. He's the deputy mayor, right? Or maybe he just needed what they were carrying."

__

"Carrying?"

__

"Sure. He probably wanted their chems."

__

Ed shook his head languorously. "No. John doesn't do chems."

__

"Oh, you're not following me. He didn't want them for _himself_."

__

"You're right," Ed breathed, confused. "I'm not following."

__

Keira sighed, trying to be as concise as possible. "How do you think you got so sick? Rad poisoning, failing kidneys, hallucinations, inebriation-- all from a few cups of whiskey? Think about it."

__

Ed's eyes shot open. "He ... he _drugged_ me?"

__

Keira nodded. "Looks that way. I asked around before you came to. Someone said they saw one of the guy's slip something into your drink. _Every_ drink."

__

"Wh-why didn't they stop me?"

"They thought it was consensual," she shrugged. "Lots of people around here mix chems with their drinks. They said you looked like you were partying." Ed closed his eyes, his brows arched, then covered his face with his arm and turned away. "The chems were probably teeming with radiation, and I'm betting they found them in the Glowing Sea. It's the best place to find untouched chems, and for some reason the rads makes them more addictive. It's how they make a profit and keep their clients coming back. You're lucky I found you when I did. A few shots is usually all it takes before Addictol becomes obsolete."

Ed buried his face in his pillow, sobbing quietly. Keira didn't notice at first, having been too wrapped up in explaining what happened, but she caught it eventually. She heard his muffled cries, saw his shaking shoulders, but she wasn't sure what to do. She had never been good with emotions, especially in the case of men. She was brought up believing men weren't supposed to cry. It wasn't until her early adulthood that she realized that notion was foolish, but comfort still wasn't her strong suit.

__

"Hey," she hushed, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't ... don't cry. You're okay now. I'm flushing the drugs from your system and you're healing up nicely. You'll be on your feet in no time. No harm no foul, right?"

__

Ed gasped, then slapped her hand away. "No harm no foul?!" He crawled up against the bedpost, his eyes burning. "What the hell do you mean 'no harm no foul'?! I was _drugged_! They left me on the street to _die_!"

__

Keira stepped back, surprised by his outburst. She didn't say anything, waiting for his fit to pass. She'd didn't expect him to have that kind of strength so soon, but he was clearly still light-headed and tipsy. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he curled up, hugging his legs and tucking his head in his knees.

__

"Why?" he sobbed, his voice quaking. "Why does he hate me so much?"

__

"Who?"

__

"My brother!" he wailed.

__

"The deputy mayor? You're related?"

__

Ed shook his head, jerking his body. "He's my brother-in-law. My wife's brother. He _hates_ me! He--!" Ed fell sideways, nearly hanging off the bed. " _Ugh_ ... my ... my head hurts."

__

"I know," Keira soothed, helping him up. "Lay down. The worst thing you can do right now is move around."

__

"But I, uugh...."

__

She tucked him in, knowing he was on the verge of collapse. It wouldn't be long before he passed out again. The drugs were still affecting his body and mind, though not as badly. As he faded in and out, she grabbed another inhaler, bringing the head to his lips.

__

"You know what the funny thing is?" Ed chuckled, half asleep.

__

"I can't imagine _anything's_ funny in your case," she frowned, waiting for him to quiet.

__

"I don't even love Lydia."

__

"Oh?" she inflected, only partially listening. She was far more concerned with his health.

__

"Nah ... not like that. Not the way a husband _should_."

__

"The way a husband ... what now? What are you talking about?" She shook her head, her hair swaying side to side. "It doesn't matter. You're high. _You_ probably don't even know what you're saying."

__

Ed mumbled, twisting in the sheets. "I like men."

__

Keira choked, her fingers digging into the plastic. He really _did_ know what he was saying, though perhaps he hadn't meant to share it. She stared at him silently, watching as his chest levelled. Before long he was asleep again, his mouth half open as he snored with a peaceful expression.

__

"I ... see."

__


	3. Too Far In, Can't Get Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ed's second fainting spell, Keira discusses his marriage with him and offers him a way out. Ed isn't sure John was actually involved, but his reaction to Ed's return makes him wonder.

Ed had forgotten what he looked like as a teenager, but he remembered what Lydia looked like. She was beautiful. Gorgeous. Her skin was flawless-- snow white with a glow, accented by her long, flowing blonde hair. She was small and fragile, but confident; at least, more confident than Ed. He stood against his locker, hands pressed against the cold metal, his cheeks red and heart pounding.

"L-Lydia ... I didn't know you felt that way. We're ... we're friends."

She shrugged with a painted smile. "Yeah, but I want us to be _more_ than friends. Please, Ed. Don't you feel the same way? Even a little?"

"I-I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment. I don't--"

"Just give us a chance. Please, Ed. I _know_ this is right."

"But ... what about John? I don't think he likes me very much."

"He's just overprotective. I'm all he has, after all. You know that."

"Yeah, but--"

"He just wants me to be happy, and _you_ make me happy. He'll accept that, in time. I know he will."

Ed gripped his shirt, conflicted. "Lydia ... I-I don't know if I feel that way about you. We're friends. We're just--"

"Everyone already thinks we're a couple. I know you've heard the rumours."

"Yeah. Most of them consist of people wondering why someone like you hangs around someone like me. You're rich and smart and beautiful ... and I'm just ... me."

"Don't do that to yourself, Ed. You're a great guy. The one I want to be with."

She stepped closer, pinning him between her body and the locker door. He felt his chest thump, but he wasn't sure if it was out of love or fear. Before he knew it, Lydia had his face in her hands, her own cheeks pink and shoulders trembling. She looked into his eyes, her mouth slowly moving closer to his.

"Lydia, I--"

***

"You're mumbling," Keira whispered. Ed woke, seeing his arm in her hand. "Don't freak out. I'm just checking your pulse."

He didn't respond. It took a minute for his vision to fully adjust, but the woman was gentle and he felt safe. He noticed the empty RadAway packs and inhalers on the nightstand, and he knew she spent all of them on him.

"Have you ... been taking care of me this whole time?" he asked, his face flush.

"It's no big deal."

Ed blushed, inspired by her kindness. "All those chems...."

"Recovery isn't cheap," she chuckled, almost playfully.

"I'll pay you back," he insisted, misinterpreting her wit. "I-it might take me a while, but I promise I'll--"

"Don't worry about it. Believe me, if there's something I have plenty of, it's supplies. I can get a hold of this crap easily."

"Easily?"

"Let's just say I have friends in high places," she smiled, placing a bandage over the holes where the RadAway needles had been. "You're clean. No more rads or drugs. How do you feel?" Ed sat up, but quickly slumped back against the bedpost. "Still tired, I bet. You're body's had one hell of a shock to the system. But at least the worst is over."

Ed caught his breath, positing himself against his pillow. "Are you a doctor?"

"Nah. My husband taught me everything I know. He was a medical officer in the military."

"Was?" Ed asked, then immediately regretted the question. "Oh, no, I-I mean ... I don't mean to pry. You don't have to answer that if you--"

"It's okay," she sighed, her eyes heavy. "He died. A long time ago."

Ed sank into the covers. This stranger had not only saved his life, but wasted numerous valuable supplies doing so, and he responded with mention of her dead husband. The shame ate away at him as his chest tightened, his heart breaking.

"I'm so sorry," he wheezed, on the brink of tears.

"Still emotional, I see." Ed coughed, taken aback by the reply. "Vadim said you were sensitive, but I had no idea. Of course, the chems aren't helping the situation, huh? You still have a bit of a fever." Ed shivered as she put her hand to his forehead. "Don't be embarrassed, it's not your fault. I'm just glad I found you when I did."

"Th-thank you," he blushed.

Keira nodded, then rubbed her nose anxiously. "Listen, I'm sorry for what I said earlier. My bedside manner has always been ... somewhat lacking."

"What? What did you say earlier?"

"When you were crying. 'No harm no foul'. My shitty way of making you feel better."

Ed scratched his head, confused. "I don't remember that. I was crying? That's embarrassing," he giggled.

"Wait, you don't remembering waking up before this?"

"I remember waking up. I remember you helping me. But it ... feels like a dream. I remember you telling me I was drugged, but ... after that it gets kind of hazy." Keira remained silent, giving him time to reflect. "I didn't say anything bad, did I?"

"No," she said quickly. He didn't seem to remember confessing his deepest secret, but perhaps that was for the best. "Do you remember talking about your brother?"

Ed flinched, gripping the bed sheets. "You mean John?"

"Yes. I think he paid those men to--" She picked her next words carefully, so as not to aggravate him. "Drug you."

He shook his head, in complete denial. "No. He ... he could've done that years ago, if he wanted. He wouldn't involve people like that."

"That's not exactly a comfort, Ed. And anyway, he _would_ if he wanted to make it look like an accident."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Ed pouted, looking away. "John doesn't like me, but he wouldn't _kill_ me. Like I said, he could've done it years ago. He could've--" He looked to Keira, noticing the glowing device on her arm. "A Pip-Boy?" he whispered, almost dazed by the discovery. "Are you ... from a vault?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess I should've told you a while ago. Sorry. My name's Keira. Keira Crossland."

Ed's eyes widened with wonder. "Wait, Keira? _The_ Keira? Leader of the Minutemen? Supporter of the Railroad? Saviour of Far Harbour? _That_ Keira?!" It was like he had completely forgotten his predicament.

She chuckled softly. "Sounds dashing when you say it like that."

"It's is!" he cried, completely star-struck. "You're a big deal around here!"

"If you like synths, I guess."

"And heroes! You help so many people!"

"I just do what's right," she shrugged. "At least, I try to."

"I've been following your adventures since ... pretty much since I escaped the vault! I even helped Piper write some articles about you that--!"

"Wait," Keira cut, raising her hand. "Since you escaped the vault? You're a vault-dweller, too?"

"Well, yeah. I'm from vault one-eleven. Just like you."

Keira froze, her green eyes sparkling. "Then ... you're not from Sanctuary Hills, are you?"

Ed nodded shyly. "I lived a few blocks away from you. Not far from Concord."

"My God..." Keira wisped, astonished. "You're Edward Smith."

Ed quivered, goosebumps forming on the back of his neck. "You ... you know me!? You know who I am?!" His excitement was almost touching.

"I saw you around. You always looked so ... dejected."

His smile quickly faded. "Dejected?"

"Every time I saw you. You always had your head down and you always looked exhausted. I remember a lot of rumours floating around about your family. Mostly about your brother. I've never been one to put much merit in gossip, but if I'm not mistaken, he wasn't well liked."

Ed sighed, hugging his arms. "Y-yeah."

"Truth be told," she hummed, ceasing the opportunity. "Your marriage didn't seem very happy either."

Ed stiffened, shocked by her candour. "Wh-what?"

"I used to pass your house on my way to work. There were a few times I saw your wife yelling at you through the window. What was her name again? Linda? Lyra?"

"Lydia!" Ed screamed, scrambling to the edge of the bed. "I completely forgot! Wh-what time is it?"

"What?"

"The time!" he yelled, grabbing the woman's arm. "How long have I been here?"

"Uh, just over two days."

Ed's eyes sank as a knot formed in his throat. "Oh, God. I ... I have to get home! My wife'll be--!"

"Just a minute," Keira boomed, her tone serious. "Your brother tried to _kill_ you. You understand that, right? And your first priority is going home? To his sister?"

Ed shook his head argumentatively. "No. He ... he probably didn't know."

"He left you alone with those mercs."

"T-to stall me! It's my birthday! Or it was ... yesterday. Lydia was making me a surprise dinner. He just wanted to stall me. That's all!"

"You didn't think that the first time you woke up. You cried, certain he was responsible."

"I ... I don't remember that. And even so, I wasn't myself. I was all ... messed up. But now that I've had time to think, it makes sense. He didn't know they were mercs, they were just a convenient distraction. To him, they were just three guys in a bar that could keep his brother busy."

"Turn out your pockets."

Ed flinched, drawing back across the bed. "Wh-what?"

"Just do it. Turn out your pockets."

"Wh-why?"

"I'm not trying to rob you," she swore, rolling her eyes. "I'm just trying to make a point. Turn out your pockets."

Ed hesitated, frightened by her demands, but complied. His back pockets were empty, but when he pushed against the right compartment, the small pouch of caps Sheng had given him dropped onto the bed. He didn't understand the significance, but Keira sighed, fractiously tapping her foot on the floor.

"Three mercs, who are also chem dealers, waste some of their best product on a guy they just meet, then drag him into an ally and _don't_ rob him? Why?"

"P-people are screwed up out here!" Ed squeaked. "They ... they do terrible things to each other all the time! Just because they think it's fun!"

"Terrible things like hiring mercs to murder their brother-in-laws?"

"Stop it! That's not true!" Ed covered his ears, nearly breaking, and Keira yielded, realizing he couldn't handle her brutal interrogation. "Please ... stop. John's a lot of things, but he's not--" A murderer? What was Ed saying? He saw John kill a man in cold blood. "He wouldn't do that to me. Not to me. We don't get along, but I'm still his brother. He wouldn't kill me. He wouldn't."

"Are you sure about that? _Positive_?"

Ed sat in silence. In truth, he wasn't sure what to think. John left before he got sick, and he couldn't imagine his self-righteous brother-in-law employing the services of Commonwealth vermin like those mercs. He was far too proud. He had his own people, _better_ people, he could rely on for that. If he truly wanted to kill Ed, he really _could_ have done it years ago.

Couldn't he?

It didn't matter. All Ed could think about was Lydia. He'd been away from home for two days, without notice. Surely she'd be worried about him. Alone and scared, wondering what happened.

"I have to go," he husked, struggling to his feet.

Keira grabbed his arm, helping him stand but also holding him back. Something inside of her called for his protection. She had only just met him, but she could tell he was a good man and that he needed someone to depend on. She didn't want to press the issue too hard, for his sake, but she couldn't help but fear for his safety. In the very least, even if he hated her for it, she had to offer.

"Ed. If you wanna leave, I'll help you."

"What?"

"Vadim ... told me a bit about you. I know you're unhappy, and I know you're probably scared, but I can help you. I can get you out of Diamond City, take you somewhere safe. All you have to do is ask."

"Wh-what are you talking about? I don't wanna leave."

"You sure about that?"

"Wh-why are you saying this? Why are you saying these terrible things? Where's this coming from?!" His voice deepened, half wounded half dismayed. "Y-you don't even know me! You don't know anything about me!"

"It's just, I don't think you're safe here. Your brother's an ass and you're clearly unhappy. I know the Commonwealth is dangerous, but you don't have to stay here. I can 

"Look," Ed snapped, visibly shaken. "I appreciate you saving me. I really do. But you have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not unhappy. I have my wife, a good home." He stopped abruptly.

"Is that it?" Keira mocked, crossing her arms.

"What more do I need?" he piped, defensively.

"I don't know. Why don't you try saying that again with a smile. Convince both of us."

"M-my life is _none of your business_!"

His voice echoed off the walls. He wasn't expecting that, and evidentially neither was Keira. Even _he_ was shocked by his tenacity. He couldn't believe he yelled at her, especially after everything she'd done. He just couldn't help it. Something inside him snapped.

"Maybe you're right," she shrugged, realizing she'd reached his breaking point She grabbed her backpack and slid it over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried."

"Wh-where are you going?" he asked, embarrassed.

"I've got places to be." Her tone was gentle, misleading. Ed couldn't tell if he had upset her or not.

"Are you ... angry with me?"

"That's what _I_ should be asking _you_. Like you said, I don't know you, yet here I am, commenting on your marriage and life choices. I don't know what's gotten into me today. I promise, I'm not usually this intrusive." Ed curled his lips, unsure how to respond. "It's okay. You have every right to be mad. I guess I'm just naturally untrusting. I mean, it's pretty damned suspicious that your brother bought those guys drinks, then left you with them, only for you to end up a near corpse on the side of the road. But if you don't think he had anything to do with it, I'll guess I'll just have to take your word for it."

She turned away, heading for the door, but Ed quickly followed. The action was instinctive. He reached out for her arm, but his motor functions were pitiful; he nearly tripped chasing after her. He didn't know what to say, how to express his gratitude. Despite her harsh line of questioning, no one had ever shown him such kindness, especially in the Commonwealth. Even before the bombs fell, people were callous, uncaring, cruel. Few would have stopped to help him, and even less would have stayed by his side. He knew it well enough: if not for her, he'd be dead now.

"Th-thank you for saving me," he stuttered, almost apologetically.

"No problem."

"I-I mean it! You saved my life and I--!"

"Really, don't worry about it. Like you said, it's what I do."

Ed blushed, struck with admiration. "Please. There has to be something I can do to repay you. Some way I can--"

"Just take care of yourself," she beamed, reaching for the handle. "That's all I ask."

__

Ed wanted to say more, but he was so tired and at a loss for words. He didn't like how she attacked his marriage or accused John, but he could tell it came from a good place; a place of concern. He wiggled his fingers nervously, one question stuck on his mind.

__

"Will ... will I ... see you again?" he asked, his voice desperate.

__

Keira looked over her shoulder, raising a brow, then grinned. "If you want. I'll be back next Tuesday. I come through Diamond City quite a bit, actually. I'm surprised we haven't run into each other before this."

__

Ed smiled, comforted by the thought. "I'm glad."

__

"You okay to get home? Or should I walk you there?"

__

"N-no," he blushed, waving his hands. "I'll be all right. Th-thank you."

__

"No problem."

__

"Not just for that. For everything."

__

"I know. It's okay, really. You can stop thanking me. Like I said, I'm just glad I found you when I did." She turned away, opening the door, but before she left she shot him one last compassionate glare. "I meant what I said. Maybe it really isn't any of my business, and maybe I'm treading on thin ice here, but if you change your mind, my offer stands." Ed huffed. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off abruptly. "Don't forget to thank Vadim. He helped me carry you in here and he's been worried sick. Even Yefim changed his 'tude when he realized how sick you were. 'Kind heart' that he is, he even gave me this room at a discount."

__

Ed gasped, thrown by her comment. She did that masterfully; jumped from topic to topic to ease the gravity of the first one. It worked. Ed couldn't think up a decent reply, and while he dithered she disappeared. The last he saw of her was her back as she walked out the door, her footsteps fading down the hall. Ed stood in silence, shocked and mortified by what had happened to him.

__

With the door open, he could hear Vadim and the customers laughing, enjoying their night. Taking a deep breath, he headed for the exit, his legs still shaky and weak. Everything still felt like a dream. Was that really Keira? Did she really spend two days nursing him back to health? Did someone really try to _murder_ him? John's face set in the back of his mind, as well as the man he killed.

__

No! John wouldn't do that. Not to him. Like he said, the man had ample opportunity to do so. He could have left Ed outside the vault, or left him in the wasteland, or found some other less conspicuous way to end his life-- and he could have done so in the past year alone. It didn't add up. He scratched his hair, squinting his eyes and shaking his head. At this point, only one thing mattered.

__

Lydia. He had to see Lydia.

_***_

__Ed didn't have any trouble getting home, but when he reached the front door he froze. He knew Lydia would be one of two things, angry or overjoyed to see him. He took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. He always prepared for the worst. With a sigh, he jiggled the handle and headed inside._ _

___"Lydia?" he said, softer than intended._ _ _

He looked about the room, his chest aching when he noticed a stack of dishes in the kitchen sink. There were far more than usual, and they weren't washed, which was practically unheard of with her compulsion to clean. She must have been heartbroken when he didn't come home and had to waste the meal. In the very least, John wasn't lying about that. She really _had_ planned something special, and he teemed with guilt and sorrow for having missed it.

_____ _

"Lydia?" he said again, making his way up the tall staircase. "Lydia, are ya here?"

_____ _

He didn't need to ask again. In a matter of seconds he heard her loud footsteps emanating from their bedroom. The sound was likely from her heels, which she made a point of wearing, even inside the house. In case of company or a visit from John, she wanted to keep up appearances. It made her feel classy and posh, like they were before the bombs fell. She ran out of the room, swinging back the door. Seeing Ed, she dashed across the floor and into his arms, nearly knocking him back.

_____ _

"Where _were_ you!?" she cried, hugging him tight. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?! John sent someone to look for you, but they haven't reported back since yesterday. No sign of you anywhere!"

_____ _

Ed apologized and hugged her back, trying to keep her calm. There was no doubt in his mind-- she had been stressing over his absence since the moment he missed dinner. He noticed her bright blue eyes begin to swell, but she managed to compose herself when he brushed her hair behind her ear.

_____ _

"Did he check the Dugout Inn? That's where he left me."

_____ _

"I know. He said you were drinking with some friends."

_____ _

"He did?"

_____ _

Lydia nodded, loosening her grip. "When you didn't come home, he sent Oscar to look for you, but you weren't there."

_____ _

"I was in one of the rooms. I got ... sick."

_____ _

"Sick?" she squeaked, terrified for his safety. "Are you all right? Do you need a doctor? It's not serious, is it?" She held his face, but gasped when she felt how warm his cheeks were. "Do you have a fever? Should we call someone?!"

_____ _

" _Shh_. No, it's all right. I'm fine now. The owners lent me a room and--"

_____ _

Before he could finish his explanation, the front door creaked open. They looked over the railing, seeing John walk in with a makeshift bouquet of mutated fern flowers. Lydia smiled, running to the edge and calling out to him, despite Ed's attempt to pull her back.

_____ _

"John! Looks who's back!" she beamed, waving down to him.

_____ _

His eyes immediately locked with Ed's. Seeing him appeared to cause an internal panic. He was remarkably still and quiet-- in a way Ed had never seen. He turned pale, seeing the terror on John's face. If he had to label it, he'd say John was _surprised_ to see him alive. The thought shot through him like a bolt of lightning. Could it be true? Did he really arrange for Ed's murder?

_____ _

It wasn't until he dropped the flowers that Lydia realized something was wrong. The silence was almost tortuous. She went to comment, but the moment she opened her mouth John sprinted for the stairs, growling monstrously. When he reached the top, he seized Ed by the collar of his shirt, causing him to gag.

_____ _

"Where the hell were you?!" John shrieked, his voice cracking. "Do you have any idea how scared she was?! How many times have I told you not to leave her alone at night?!"

_____ _

Lydia shuddered, grabbing her brother's arm. "You've got it all wrong, John! He was sick!"

_____ _

"Oh, yeah? And why do you think that is?" He twisted Ed, pushing his face into hers. "Smell his clothes, Lydia. Smell his _breath_! He _reeks_ of alcohol and chems!"

_____ _

Lydia stepped back, the expression on her face tearing Ed apart. She _believed_ John's accusation, but he understood why. He had no defence, no proof, no witnesses. Keira was the only one who knew the truth, but she was gone and he had no idea how to find her. He cringed as John pulled tighter, scrunching his shirt.

_____ _

"Please ... please stop!" he begged, digging his nails into John's brawny wrists. "I didn't get drunk. Those men drugged me!"

_____ _

"Liar!" John spat, his rage building. "Those men were perfectly harmless traders!"

_____ _

"No! They were mercs! And dealers! They were _criminals_!"

_____ _

John's eyes broadened, flowing with fury and fear. "What? H-how do you--?" 

_____ _

"They drugged me!" he screamed, still trying to fight John's impossible grip. "They tried to kill me, but--!" That's when it dawned on him. He knew mentioning Keira would make his story less credible, but she _wasn't_ the only witness. "Vadim helped me! He saved my life! Just ask him and he'll tell you himself! He saw everything! And he's not the only one! Yefim saw, too! And there was another witness who saw them put chems in my drinks! And--!"

_____ _

John shoved Ed, his eyes burning with a wrath he hadn't bore since judgement day. Whether intentional or not, he sent Ed flying back with a force that lifted him off the floor. Lydia gasped and covered her eyes, just barley catching a glimpse of Ed falling down the stairs. He hit the steps hard, hearing his back crack against the wood. An agonized grunt filled the air, but stopped as he rolled the rest of the way down and slammed into the wall. For a moment he felt paralysed, his whole body numb, but the pain quickly spread as he bent back, torn between holding his wound and gasping for air.

_____ _

"What have you done?!" Lydia cried, her voice strained. John said nothing as she hobbled down the stairs, running to Ed's aid. "Ed! Are you all right? Say something!"

_____ _

"It ... hurts..." he puffed, barely able to breath.

_____ _

"I'll get a doctor! You'll be okay! Just take deep breaths and--!"

_____ _

"Don't coddle him!" John barked. Lydia flinched at the demand. "Can't you see he's lying to you? Spinning tall tales to suit his addictions?"

_____ _

She shook her head, frantic. "No! He's not like that!"

_____ _

"How do you know? He spends almost every waking hour outside the house, and neither one of us knows what he really does. Odd jobs around the town? All day? Bullshit, Lydia. Don't be so God damn naive."

_____ _

She squinted her eyes, black mascara running down her cheeks. "I-I don't know, John. Just, please ... get him a doctor. Can't you see he's hurt?"

_____ _

"He's fine. He didn't hit his head, he just got the wind knocked out of him. If you ask me, he's getting off easy." He adjusted his tie as he made his way down the stairs. "I told you he was no good for you from the start. And now he's out getting drunk and doing God knows what with God knows who."

_____ _

"No!" she screamed, throwing herself over Ed's quivering body. "He's not like that. _He's not like that_!"

_____ _

She cried softly, soaking Ed's shirt. He could hear her, but he couldn't do anything about it. He was still dizzy from the drugs and he was in too much pain to speak. He groaned, each breath agonizing. He couldn't believe John attacked him.

_____ _

Lydia wept, brushing the hair from his face, trying anything to make him comfortable. "It's okay. It's okay, Ed. I'm right here."

_____ _

John scoffed, regaining his composure. "No wonder he's so useless. You pamper him like a baby. It does nothing for him. He needs to man up and take responsibility for his actions. Drugs, mercs, attempted murder? That doesn't sound just a tad farfetched to you?"

_____ _

Lydia looked up, her eyes heavy with fear and sorrow. "John ... you ... you hurt him. You _hurt_ him."

_____ _

He stepped back, riled by the expression. "It's not _my_ fault. He was screaming at me. I didn't know what he was going to do. I felt threatened. Cornered! And besides, he's probably drunk. And high! You don't--!" He sighed, taking a moment to calm his nerves. "We'll talk about this tomorrow. I have to get back to the office anyway. In the meantime, get him some ice and put him to bed. He clearly needs to sober up."

_____ _

"But, what about--?"

_____ _

"Goodnight, Lydia." He bent down, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, then stood and headed for the door.

_____ _

"John! _John_?!"

_____ _

He was done talking, and Lydia knew it when he didn't waver in his steps. He left the house, not once looking back. When he was gone, she sniffed back her tears, but it wasn't enough. Her shoulders trembled, overcome with emotion. As the sun set in the distance, she crawled up next to Ed, weeping loudly into the night.

_____ _


	4. No More Hiding, No more Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed tries to cope with what happened between him and John, but he finds it more and more difficult, especially with the evidence working against him.

Ed woke the next morning with a groan. Sitting up hurt, but it hurt even more when he stretched. His yawn became a pained yelp as he held his lower back, completely overwhelmed. As he waited for the sharp pain to pass, he looked beside him, seeing the sheets twisted and bunched. Lydia was gone. She was always an early riser, but he knew she had slept just as badly as he had. Wincing, he rolled out of bed and onto the floor. John had never been physically violent with him, but the fact that he had had kept Ed up most hours of the night. He was exhausted and reasonably on edge, and he worried how he'd get through the day without snapping.

Knees quaking, he pushed himself to his feet and limped to the mirror. Every step was agony, but it slowly become more and more bearable. Sleeping on it definitely didn't help, but now that he was up and walking around, it felt manageable.

"My God..." he breathed, lifting his shirt to examine the wound.

He was shocked by the extent of the damage. A large bruise tinted nearly the entire right side of his lower back, filled with small cuts left by the wood. Part of it spread out to his side and just barely touched his abdomen. A brief panic nipped at his heels as he wondered how he'd get through his jobs without causing a scene. He was embarrassed, frightened, neurotic. He didn't want anyone to know.

He ran to his dresser and pulled open the drawers, then leaned against them momentarily. He stared at his shirts, his hands shaking. Yes, he thought. There was only one thing he could do.

Hide it.

***

Lydia set the table, placing a charred squirrel in Ed's spot. She couldn't seem to compose herself, and she even jumped when Ed closed the bedroom door. She turned to him with a look of annoyance, but remained silent as he sauntered to his seat. He slowly lowered himself onto the chair, trying to ease his pain. It wasn't easy; the slightest movement seemed to irritate the injury, but he dealt with it admirably.

"Good morning," Lydia muttered, as if nothing was amiss.

"Morning," Ed replied, quietly. He cut into the squirrel with a sigh. In truth, he wasn't very hungry, but he knew that refusing the meal would cause problems later.

"So," Lydia smiled, clapping her hands. "What are your plans for the day?"

He frowned, swallowing the over-salted cut of meat. "Just helping with the wall today," he buzzed. "Needs another coat of paint. Abbot offered two hundred caps per worker."

"Only two hundred?" Lydia scoffed. Ed looked up from under his brows. "I mean ... it just seems like a petty amount for something so important."

"The _wall_ is important. The colour isn't. It's just something extra the citizens want to see."

"Well," Lydia shrugged, cutting into her food. "The least they can do is pay you a decent wage."

Ed watched in awe as she begrudgingly tore into her meal. He had never seen her so out of sorts. All sense of etiquette seemed to disappear as she shoved large pieces into her mouth and chewed violently with her jaw half open. He realized she was just as bothered as he was, and that worried him.

"Lydia..." he began, hoping to comfort her.

"I don't want to talk about it," she grumbled, stabbing at the overcooked rodent.

"Lydia, please." He reached across the table and touched her hand. "It's okay. Last night was--"

"It's _your fault_!" she snapped, jumping out of her chair. Ed cringed, pulling away and nearly whacking his back. "If you stopped making him mad none of this would've happened! We live in the best city in the Commonwealth! We're safe! We should be happy! But you keep screwing everything up! All he asks is that you be home after dark, to make sure I'm safe! But you can't even do _that_ right! You're useless, Edward! Absolutely _useless_!"

She stormed across the table and snatched his plate, not caring that he hadn't finished his meal. As he cowered, she collected hers as well and threw them into the sink. The sound of her heels stomping against the floorboards sent shivers up Ed's spine. She was hysterical, and there was nothing he could do about it. When she got like this, all he could do was wait.

"Get out!" she yelled, marching past him. "Go earn your measly two hundred caps while John busts his ass doing the _real_ work! God, it's no _wonder_ he's so hard on you! Why can't you be more assertive like him?!"

Ed sat in silence. Not another word was spoken as his head hung low, facing the table. Lydia sneered and kicked off her heels. Evidentially, she was finished pretending. They smacked against the wall with a loud thump, which nearly caused Ed to baulk and sprint out of the house. She ran to her room and slammed the door, leaving Ed to his thoughts. He could hear her muffled cries on the other side of the door, but he knew there was nothing he could do to help her.

After a short time he stood, the chair legs squeaking against the wood. He groaned softly before straightening up, his back throbbing. He'd go to work and get through the day as best he could.

That's all he could do.

***

"Thanks, Ed," Abbot said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Good work today. I didn't think we'd finish, but by some miracle we did."

"No problem," Ed beamed, covered in sweat. His back ached, but he endured it.

"Here. For all your hard work." Abbot grinned, tossing him a pack of caps. "There's a little extra in there, but don't tell anyone. I figure ya earned it, since ya helped mix the paint 'n all."

"Th-thank you!" Ed yelled, his eyes shimmering with gratitude.

"Don't worry about it," Abbot laughed. "Just keep it on the down-low. It's not much. Only forty caps more, but--"

"That's a whole world of difference to me!" he smirked.

"Well, good. If ya need any work in the future, let me know. I'll see if I can set ya up with somethin'."

Ed nodded enthusiastically. "Thanks so much! You can't know how much I appreciate it."

"I got some notion." He looked over to the unused paint cans. "Oh, damn. Before ya head out, do ya think you can put those in storage for me? I'm an old man and my back ain't what it used to be. And you can reach the selves better than I can, too. So how 'bout it? Wanna do me one more favour?"

Ed felt his wound pulse at the suggestion, but he wasn't about to say no. "Sure. No problem, Abbot."

"Thanks. They just go in that shed over there, along with all the other crap we collect to keep this city runnin'."

Ed nodded, waving goodbye and collecting the cans. It hurt to lift them, putting a mild strain on his injury. He had been stretching and lifting heavy objects all day, exacerbating the pain, but he tightened his lip, knowing the day was almost over.

With a sigh, he power-walked to the shed, desperate for relief. Just like Abbot said, the shed was fully stocked and there weren't many places to put the cans. The only free space was on the top shelf, several feet from the ground.

Ed stood on his toes and slid the first can onto the ledge, but groaned, feeling a stabbing pain shoot up his spine. He hunched over quickly, waiting for the dull ache to subside before trying for the second. Taking a breath, he balanced on his toes again, extending his body, but this time the pain was too much. He grunted loudly and stumbled back, dropping the container.

"Ed?" a voice asked from the entrance.

"K-Keira?" he peeped, turning to see who it was.

She stepped inside, tilting her head. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he laughed, brushing her off.

Keira frowned, studying his face. He was pale and clammy, and he seemed to be fighting strained breaths. She knew well enough that these were all signs indicative of pain-- what she didn't know is why he was lying about it.

"Rough day at work?" she asked, crossing her arms. "I suppose it would be, since it's sweltering and you're wearing two shirts. Weren't you hot?"

"Just gettin' over a cold," he lied, flicking back his hair. "Can't be too careful."

"And your back? What wrong with that?"

Ed paused. He'd been holding his wound the whole time, but he didn't notice until she mentioned it. He forced a smile, straightening his body.

"Just threw it out," he shrugged, putting his arm at his side. "What can I say? I'm old."

"No you're not," Keira groaned, completely unconvinced.

"Older than you," he quipped. She scowled, refusing to drop the subject. "Well, I've always had a sensitive back. Runs in the family. And I _was_ doing manual labour all day."

Keira remained silent, her eyes dissecting every comment. It made him anxious, so he grit his teeth and turned away, picking up the fallen container. It hurt like hell, but he pushed through it, putting on a perfect show. He managed to slide the can onto the self without incident, but Keira could still see the strain. She zeroed in on his back as his shirt lifted above his waistline, but she was disappointed to see the second shirt tucked into his pants.

"Are you here for supplies?" Ed asked, meeting her eyes with a smile. "I thought you said you weren't going to be back until Tuesday."

"I have some business with Valentine that forced me to come back early. I'll be seeing him later tonight."

"I see. Well, I was just about to head home. Just have to pick up a few things for Lydia first. Wanna come?"

He didn't actually want the company. He was certainly happy to see her, but Keira was too smart for her own good. He didn't know her very well, but he knew the possibility that she'd deduce what happened was high. However, he also knew pushing her away was more conspicuous. He felt trapped, conflicted, stuck between telling her to leave and asking her to join him. Yet at the same time, he didn't want to be alone. He felt safe with her, and today he needed that small comfort.

"Sure," was all she could bring herself to say.

***

Ed cracked half a smile, accepting a bottle of Day Tripper from Solomon. He paid the man quickly, as if ashamed, then stashed the chems in his pocket. With the deal done, he gave Keira a gentle tap and walked away, almost hurriedly.

"I thought you didn't do drugs," Keira voiced, staying close beside him.

"I, uh ... I don't. This is for Lydia." She cocked an eyebrow. "I-I mean, she doesn't do it often. Just every now and then. Keeps her calm. Mellow. H-helps her relax."

"And she needs to relax? Isn't that _all_ she does?"

Ed cringed, sensing her distain. "She has her moments. Everyone has a vice or two, right? It's not like she's an addict."

"Whatever you say."

"What's the supposed to mean?" Ed huffed, offended.

"You know my opinions. Let's just leave it at that."

He glowered slightly, but all was forgiven when he looked up at the empty bleachers. It was getting late, but he had time before he needed to get home. He noted the vacant lift and tapped Keira's shoulder, like a child excited for Christmas.

"Hey. Wanna go watch the sunset?"

"What?"

He pointed to the stands. "Up there. It's never empty, but it looks like we're in luck! C'mon. Come watch the sunset with me. Please?"

Keira couldn't help but smile. It was nice to see him passionate about something. Even when he was happy, she knew part of it was forced. There was always a sadness in his eyes that he couldn't conceal, even before the bombs, so seeing him fidget and bounce over something as simple as sky-gazing warmed her heart.

"Okay. Lead the way."

***

The walk wasn't long. It only took them a few minutes to reach the lift, and only a few seconds to enter the stands. Ed smiled, running to the balcony and looking out over the town. The breeze was warm and inviting; almost a comfort, and the surrounding area was beautiful. Shades of reds and yellows painted the clouds and reminded Ed of simpler times. It wasn't much, but it was a welcome end to a most arduous week.

"I love it up here," he said, enjoying the feel of the wind in his hair. "Being up here, looking out over the city and watching the sun. It almost makes me forget my problems."

"And you have a lot of them?" Keira jabbed, still prodding.

Ed gulped, then giggled nervously. "It's just an expression. What I mean is, everything's so calm up here. It's nice."

Keira hummed, losing her patience. "You know what? You're right. This _is_ nice. Thanks for bringing me up here, buddy!"

She extended her hand, then deliberately slapped him where his injury was most prominent. Ed wailed, arching forward and clutching the banister with a forceful grip. The pain was severe and surprising, which made it a thousand times worse.

"I knew it. I knew this wasn't some ordinary back sprain." She grabbed his shirts intrusively, bunching the material in her hand. "What happened?"

"No ... wait!"

Ignoring his plea, she ripped the undershirt out of his pants and lifted it to his chest. The cold blew up Ed's back and he knew he'd been exposed. Both of them froze; Ed overwhelmed with horror and Keira with shock. He wasn't facing her, his body still draped over the rail, but he could feel her eyes burning. When he recovered an ounce of strength, he swiped her hand away and staggered back, pulling his shirts down over the wound.

"Ed..." Keira blanched, her fingers twitching. "What ... what the hell? Who did that to you?"

Ed paled. She didn't ask what happened, she asked _who did it_. She knew someone was responsible, and he knew he couldn't lie. She'd figure it, one way or another.

"It was John, wasn't it?"

There it was. Of course she knew. There was no hiding or denying it. Ed wore his emotions on his sleeve and Keira was quick to divulge them. He faced the stadium, refusing to meet her eyes as he held his wound, waiting for the pain to settle.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" She didn't yell, for his sake, but her words were stern and solid.

"You don't know anything about it," Ed scorned, annoyed that she invaded his privacy. "This was an accident. John was upset that I came home late. He doesn't like it when I leave Lydia alone. He overreacted. He's just overprotective. That's all."

"There's no excuse for _that_ ," she teethed, irate. "You said it was an accident? Okay, sure. That's today. But what about next time? Can't you see? They're _killing_ you, Ed! You have to get away!"

"Who the hell are you to question my life and choices?" he roared, reaching his limit. "It's easy for you to say this shit-- your family's _dead_! But I can still work on _my_ marriage!"

Keira drew back, her eyes wide with anguish. A dead silence filled the air as she almost stopped breathing. Ed covered his mouth immediately, realizing the weight of his awful comment. He could hardly believe it. What compelled him to say something so horribly cruel? She was merely concerned. _More_ than concerned. She feared for his _life_. How could he return that with malice?

"O-oh, God. Keira, no. I-I didn't mean--" She turned, hiding her face and walking away, her hand slumped lazily over the railing. "Wait! Please! I-I didn't mean to say that! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean--!"

"Maybe I deserved that," she whispered, her voice strained. "If you change your mind ... if you decide you want help ... I'll help you. I'll take you as far away from this place as possible, and I'll make sure you're safe. Just--" Ed watched as she brought her sleeve to her face. "Don't talk about my family, okay?"

It was a desperate plea; so painful that Ed couldn't help but shatter around it. At that moment, he knew he'd wounded her deeply.

"Keira ... I am _so_ sorry."

He reached out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away the moment his fingertips touched her shirt. Edward flinched, unsure what to do as she sobbed silently in front of him. He felt terrible, but he didn't know how to fix his brutal mistake.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Keira groaned, inching away.

"Keira, please. I ... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. I shouldn't have mentioned your family like that. I'm so--!" Before he knew it, tears had formed in his eyes and his words drifted off into quiet whimpers. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm such a piece of shit! I'm so sorry, Keira! _Please don't cry_!"

He nearly fell to his knees, overcome with guilt and sorrow. He filled the air with his cries, snorting loudly and begging her forgiveness. As he unravelled behind her, baring his soul, she sighed and turned to face him.

"You're not a piece of shit," she said, returning to normal. He only began to cry harder, seeing the tears on her cheeks. "It's okay. You were upset. I'm asking a lot of you-- taking you far out of your comfort zone. I get that things aren't black and white, and I get that you want to save your marriage, but you're so clearly unhappy. And _that_?" She pointed to his side. "There's no excuse for that. I should slice him open right now and leave him as scrap for the hounds."

The change in her tone was almost frightening, but Edward actually appreciated the threat. No one had ever cared so much. It gave him a warm, almost secure sensibility. He wanted to thank her, he wanted to apologize again, but before he could open his mouth she moved closer and wiped his eyes with her thumbs.

"You're better than him, Ed. And you deserve better. I won't step where you don't want me to, but I won't lie-- it's hard. That bruise on your back isn't the only wound I see. He's breaking you little by little and it's _killing_ me to watch."

"Keira...."

"All you have to do is ask and I'll get you out of here. You never have to see him again. Just know that you have an out, that you have options. You don't _have_ to put up with this. That's all I was trying to say."

Ed clutched her hand, trying but failing to recuperate. He couldn't stop crying, no matter what he did. He closed his eyes, sucking back deep sobs through gritted teeth and trembling shoulders, but Keira didn't move. She let him hold her hand against his cheek, doing her best to console him.

"I ... I don't know," he wept, his chest heaving. "What ... what about Lydia? She's not exactly victimless either." Keira frowned. "I mean it! She's scared of John, too! She has her problems, sure, but she's not him!"

" _You're_ my first priority. But if she wants out too, I'll help her. I'll help both of you. All you have to do is ask."

Ed coughed, overwhelmed with fear and sorrow. His head started to spin and he needed to sit. Keira could see him struggling, so she quickly helped him step back and lean against the bleachers. She held the back of his neck gently and guided his head between his legs. As he took small, shallow breaths, she rubbed his back, avoiding the injury.

"I ... I c-can't decide now," he stuttered. "I ... I need time. I need to talk to Lydia. Alone. When she's not with John."

Keira nodded. "Do you want me to be there?" she proffered, holding his hand.

"No. Thank you, but no. I think your presence would only rile her up. I need to talk to her alone. M-make her understand."

Keira stood, but not before brushing Ed's matted hair from his face. "So, does this mean you want to leave?"

He shivered, still uncertain. "I ... I don't know. Just let me talk to Lydia first. I n-need to think about this."

"Of course. Just know I'll be close by, if you need me."

He sniffed and wiped his nose. "Okay."

"Okay." Keira looked at her Pip-Boy with a pout. "I have to go. Are you gonna be okay? Will you be able to get home alright?"

"I ... I think so."

"Good. Just ... take it easy, okay? Take care of yourself. You're a good man and you deserve better than this."

Ed stifled another sob, covering his mouth. "Th-thank you."

"You're welcome," she beamed, her voice soft and lyrical. She held out her hand, hoping to lessen his pain. "Come on. I'll help you up."

He accepted gratefully, letting out a soft grunt as he stood. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said."

"Hey, it's okay. We're past that."

"I should've said it," he winced, still partially crying. "It was a fuckin' awful thing to say."

Keira sighed and rubbed his arm forgivingly. "Hey, I mean it. It's okay. Let's just forget it. Come on, it's getting dark."

Ed nodded, but as she pulled away he yanked her into his arms and hugged her tight. He closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder, exhausting the last of his tears. The suddenness of it threw Keira completely off guard, but she didn't complain. She melted in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his thin torso.

"It's okay," she whispered, avoiding his wounds. "It's okay."

"Thank you. _Thank you_."

The two exchanged smiles, then finished their hug and walked their separate ways. Ed felt a slight sense of buoyancy-- something he never thought he'd feel. Maybe it _was_ time for a change. He wasn't sure how he'd tell Lydia, but he knew he couldn't stay in Diamond City anymore. Not with John criticizing his every move.

And another thought occurred to him: this time he pushed Ed. What if he hit Lydia next? What if this was the start of something disastrous? John had inarguably gotten worse since the bombs fell, and he didn't show any signs of remorse or retraction. He never pictured John as someone who would hurt Lydia, but things had changed. He'd seen him yell at her countless times since moving to Diamond City, and the smallest, most inconsequential things seemed to fuel his raging temper.

In the very least, he wanted Lydia to know that she too had a way out. He'd have to broach the subject carefully, but he had all the time in the world to prepare. He knew she might react with anger, or even be appalled by the idea of leaving, but he couldn't just disappear with no explanation. Whether he loved her or not was questionable, but he _did_ care about her. No matter what, he wasn't about to abandon her and trap her with John. She needed to know, even if it killed her.

"One more thing," Keira said, calling from a distance. "Those mercs who drugged you? They're dead."

Ed's eyes widened at the news. "D-dead?" She nodded, her expression sombre. "D-did you--?"

"It wasn't me. I found them near a super mutant stronghold. What was left of them, that is."

"So, they were attacked by super mutants?"

"No, Ed. They were dead long before that."

"B-but, h-how do you--?"

"I got close enough to grab one of the heads, and I managed to pull a slug out of his brain." She reached into her pocket and tossed him a small bullet. He shivered when it hit his hand, but he held it tightly. "I analysed the make on my Pip-Boy. Looks like it belongs to some kind of colt. Specifically a M1911. You wouldn't happen to know anyone who owns a relic like that, would you?"

Ed's eyes sank as he began to hyperventilate. "I ... I-I need to get home," he wheezed, his heart pounding in his chest.

"If you're sure," she shrugged, turning away. "Just remember what I said. If you need me, I won't be far."

He nodded and made his way to the lift, while Keira took another path. He pushed the button hurriedly and waited for his decent, tapping his fingers on the panel. As he made his way home, he failed to notice Oscar, who stood in the stadium just above where he and Keira had conversed.


	5. Change is Hard, Choices are Harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed finally admits the truth and confronts John.

Ed stared at the bullet in his hand, mystified, terrified. Keira was right, it definitely belonged to John's colt. It was the one thing the Overseer didn't destroy; likely because the incinerator was only meant for light materials, but he hadn't seen John use it in a long time. He couldn't fathom his vile brother-in-law taking out three mercs on his own, but he had to admit that John had grown excessively brutal since the bombs fell. Everyone was afraid of him, even Lydia. He was hesitant before, but he knew now that he had to admit it, no matter how much it pained and horrified him.

John tried to kill him.

He took a while to get home, hardly noticing how dark the city had become. He forgot about his curfew, nearly petrified by the evidence Keira had provided. By the time he dragged himself up the platform, his body aching from a long day of work and devastation, the sun had completely set. He hunched over, his back throbbing, and took a minute to rest. He had spent the whole trip figuring a way to tell Lydia without damaging her already fractured psyche. He knew, depending on her mood, that she might not be able to handle the news.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, only to feel it yanked back unexpectedly. He held the knob tightly-- a result of his shock-- and winced as he felt his arm pulled forward. He stumbled into the house, confused and terrified as he found his footing. He barely had time to breathe before Oscar had him by the throat and completely at his mercy.

"John! Stop! Tell him to stop!" Lydia cried, sprinting down the stairs. She clung to Oscar's arm, but she was no match for his muscle. "Stop it, Oscar! Stop it! John, tell him to stop!"

John scoffed, trailing close behind her. "Why? You heard what he said, didn't you? This piece of shit is planning on _leaving_ you!"

"Wh-what's going on?" Ed stammered, trying to fight Oscar's grip.

"Oscar heard everything you and that woman were talking about in the stands. You're planning on leaving Lydia. Probably for _her_." He turned to his sister, arms crossed. "Who knows how long he's carried on with his whores."

Lydia held her chest, heartbroken. "Ed, is it true? You're really planning on leaving me?"

Ed gulped, distracted by the enormous hands at his throat. He clutched Oscar's wrists, trying to breathe, but the hulking giant only squeezed harder. Speaking was impossible, and one look at John's smile told him it was intentional. Oscar was strangling him to keep him quiet, and on John's order. He didn't want him answering Lydia, no matter the cost. He panicked, feeling faint. The only thing he could think to do was pound on the Oscar's chest, but it was all for not.

"John, he can't breathe!" Lydia watched in horror as Ed's face turned a shade of blue. "Please!"

"He doesn't deserve your sympathy, Lydia. You heard what Oscar said. He's planning on leaving you. On _abandoning_ you."

"No!" Ed spit. "Not ... true!"

"See? We haven't heard his side! Let him go, Oscar! For God's sake! You're _killing_ him!"

Ed choked, his feet dangling as Oscar hung him in the air. Seeing Lydia in shambles and fearing for his life gave him a rush he'd never experienced. If he died, she'd never know the truth. She'd never know how psychotic John was, and he'd never know if she was safe. The thought tore him apart, but fostered a rage that had laid dormant for years. He was small compared to Oscar, but he reached high enough to box the man's ears, sending him into a discombobulated daze. He yelped and dropped Ed immediately, who reacted with a swift kick to the groin. Oscar cried out, the pain coursing through his system, but before he had a chance to reach down, Ed buried his fist in his stomach. The blows weren't powerful, but they were strong enough to knock Oscar back and send him crashing into a nearby table. It all happened in a flash, and before anyone really knew what happened, Oscar was on the floor, struggling to collect himself.

Lydia stared, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, but she ran to Ed the moment he was free. As he coughed, reclaiming his breath, she held his hand and wiped the sweat from his brow. John's face burned, his eyes narrowing as she clung to Ed like a lost child.

"What are you doing, Lydia? Get away from him!"

"Wh-why?" she fret, curling up against him.

"Because he's trying to deceive you!"

Ed shivered, his adrenaline still running rampant. He was terrified, but he couldn't tolerate John's lies. Not anymore. He frowned and grabbed Lydia's shoulders, staring into her laden eyes.

"Lydia. John--" He took another breath, his fingers digging into her dress. "Lydia ... John tried to murder me." The moment the words left his mouth, she quivered in disbelief. She shook her head repeatedly, but Ed held strong. "The other night, when I didn't come home, he hired those men to drug and kill me. They weren't traders, they were mercs."

"A baseless accusation!" John barked, aggravated. "Don't listen to him, Lydia! This guy's been nothing but a worthless tart since the day you--!"

"And you killed them, too!" Ed shouted.

John paused, unable to hide his astonishment. "What're you talking about?" he teethed.

"You killed the men you hired to kill me! Their bodies are just outside the city, in some super mutant nest!"

"Are you sure you want to go down this road, Edward? Accusing me, your mayor, of not only attempted murder, but homicide? I'd watch my step if I were--"

"It's not the first time!" Ed shrieked, grasping Lydia's hand. "You remember, right? He killed that man, in cold blood, the day the bombs fell."

Lydia paled, shaking her head. "B-barely. There's ... something there. I remember something about that. But ... that was ... he did that to save you."

"He did it because he _enjoyed_ it! He's _sick_!"

"You see, Lydia? He's trying to trick you. He's trying to tear us apart. Get away from him, before he hurts you. He's an addict and he's dangerous. He needs help." John held out his hand, gingerly. "Now, just, walk over to me." She dithered, torn between both men. "Come on, Lydia. I'm your brother. I've raised you, loved you, and taken care of you since we were kids. You know me, and you know Ed has problems. Come with me and I'll get him the help he needs."

She stood frozen in place, her knees quaking as she stared at John. She wanted to support Ed, but the reservation lingered. She didn't trust him. She sighed sadly, slipping out of his hand and reaching for John's, who smiled triumphantly at her choice. Ed whinged, trying to stop her as John flashed him a devilish grin.

"Wait! Lydia, I can prove it!" He quickly pulled the bullet from his pocket and forced it into her hand. "This was inside one of the mercs! Pulled from his corpse! Look at it, Lydia! Please, just look at it!"

John's skin turned white as Lydia opened her fingers. Curious, she brought the ball to her face and examined it closely. The blood smeared on the iron unnerved her, but she remained surprisingly calm as she studied it carefully.

"He killed them to keep it secret! He didn't want anyone to know!"

"That ... that could belong to any gun!" John yelled, his enunciation slipping.

"No ... it couldn't," Lydia whispered, holding it into the light. "You're the only man in the world ... who carries an old colt." She turned to her brother, her eyes blank and fixated. "Literally ... the only one."

"That's impossible! He ... he could've taken that out of my office!"

"How?" she pushed, her voice shaky. "You never let him in there, and it's guarded twenty-four hours a day. And you keep them locked in a safe. You've been saving them for 'special occasions', since there're only a few left, yet this one's clearly been fired."

"Then he stole that, too!"

"No, John. You keep it on you at all times. There's no way."

He stepped back and kicked Oscar heatedly. "Get up, you useless oaf!"

"John..." she sobbed, moving closer. "Is it true? Did you really try to kill Ed?"

John winced, frayed by her expression. She asked again, stepping closer, the gap between them nearly closed. Her pupils shrank as she gazed into his eyes, his crime evident. Her jaw dropped as he continued to pace back, at a loss for words. For the first time in his life, he had no excuse, no vindication. He was cornered.

"John," she said again, clasping the bullet so hard it pieced her skin. " _Did you try to kill Edward_?!"

"I didn't have a choice!" he cracked, his voice shattering her ears. Sweat poured down his face, caught in his lie. "That man's been a thorn in my side since you married him! He's never been good for you, Lydia! _Never_! And now everything's gone and what does he do? Pick up garbage? Deliver boxes? _Paint_?! He's useless and you know it! You need a _real_ man, especially now! You think this useless puss will defend you? Take care of you? _Provide_ for you? He can't even do those things for him _self_! He's nothing, Lydia! Absolutely nothing! He'll _never_ make you happy! He'll _never_ keep you safe! God damn it, don't you get it? _He doesn't deserve you_!"

Lydia snapped. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her body weak and flaccid. Ed grabbed her arms, holding her upright, but she didn't respond. Her eyes were wide and lifeless, wondering as she lost her sanity. Ed shook her gently, knowing the look, but she had completely shut down.

"Lydia. Lydia, please, listen to me." He held her face, pressing his forehead against hers. "John is dangerous, but I have a friend who'll take us away from here. She'll take us somewhere safe. Somewhere we can be happy, away from--!"

John raced across the room and slammed into Ed, sending him flying back and crashing into the wall. The violent blow exacerbated his wound and forced a pained cry from his mouth. He held his side, gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of him, and fell to the floor. Lydia stood silently, seemingly unfazed; immobilized, petrified by the sight.

"You've got a lot of nerve, Ed. I'll admit, I didn't expect that," John chuckled, brushing back his ratted hair. "But if you think you can take Lydia away from me, you've got another thing coming to you."

Ed shook, crawling to his catatonic wife. He grabbed her ankle firmly, trying but failing to stand. Everything hurt, but all he could focus on was her. He looked up, meeting her eyes with a compassionate glare.

"Lydia, listen to me. I know this is hard, but John's crazy. He's been trying to tear us apart since we met. He's ... abusive. A _monster_! Please ... run away with me! We can make it out there ... I know we can!"

"Shut up!" John screeched, pulling the still recuperating Oscar to his feet. He slapped the man angrily as he pointed to Ed. "Do something useful and _kill him_!"

Oscar clicked his tongue and pulled his gun from his pouch. As he stepped closer for a better shot, Lydia came out of her stupor. She saw the gun and reflected on John's order, realizing what was about to happen. In an instant, she threw herself in front of Ed, but Oscar pushed her aside, clearing the way. Ed cringed, curling up against the floor and squinting in fear. As Lydia fought in vain, hitting Oscar's arm, he lined his finger with the trigger and pulled.

"No! _Stop_!"

The sound of a gunshot filled the air, vibrating off the walls. Lydia stopped breathing, and for a moment ceased to be. Her vision turned blurry as a large body fell and hit the floor. She tried to scream, but only conjured weak, wheezy cries, trembling at the display. Blood spilled onto the floor and stained her shoe, but she couldn't move. Her chest heaved as she entered a state of inalterable panic. She couldn't hear, she couldn't feel-- she just wanted to die. Die along with Ed.

"Lydia! Lydia, it's me. I'm right here. I'm okay. Look!"

Two hands touched her cheeks, and she soon realized someone was standing in front of her. Whoever it was wiped her eyes with his sleeve, adjusting her view. He was calm and gentle, holding her steady as she swayed. She couldn't make out his face, but she'd recognize that orange frizz anywhere.

"E-Edward," she rasped, her lips quivering. "B-but, you ... h-h-how did--?"

"That's not me lying there. It's--"

"Oscar!" John yelled, stumbling back. "Wha ... what the hell happened?!"

Ed hugged Lydia as he searched for the shooter. Oscar was definitely dead, a bullet lodged deep in his brain. The only question was how it happened. He scanned the room, checking to see that John hadn't pulled his gun and shot Oscar accidentally. They both called out, demanding that the perpetrator show themselves.

Standing was agonizing, and when no one answered Ed fell, overwhelmed by the pain in his back. Lydia gasped, bending down and shifting his weight to her shoulder. That's when the front door creaked open, revealing a woman with dark red hair and a black trench coat.

"Looks like I arrived just in time."

"K-Keira?" Ed wheezed, stunned.

She let herself in, holding a smoking pistol at her side. As she headed for Ed and Lydia, the door swung on its hinges, a small hole burnt through the wood. She popped the empty chamber and knelt down next to them, helping Ed sit upright. He grunted as she slowly levelled his body, keeping her hand on his upper back.

"Easy. I heard the mayor and his lackey were at your house. I wasn't about to leave you alone with them." She touched his neck, examining the marks left by Oscar. "Bastards."

"Who the fuck are _you_?" John screeched, baffled.

"Can you stand?" Keira asked, ignoring John completely.

"I ... I think so."

"Then stand. Come on."

She slipped her arm under his and helped him up, aided by Lydia; who looked confused, but lucid. Keira nodded and gestured to an end table by the door, and Lydia followed, sitting Ed against it. As he took a moment to recover, she lifted his shirt, inspecting the angry wound.

"Damn it, Ed. Why didn't you go see a doctor?"

"Don't ignore me, you bitch! I asked you who you are!"

Keira frowned, leaving Ed in Lydia's care and heading for John. Her eyes were dark and filled with malice, and they screamed an unspoken threat. That sparked a tinge of fear in John, causing him to bulk up and stand his ground.

"Stay back!"

"K-Keira..." Ed huffed, still shocked by her presence.

"Wait, _Keira_?" John chuckled, astounded. " _The_ Keira? The bitch from the vault?!"

"You'll want to refrain from using that word."

He laughed, reaching back for his gun but keeping it holstered. "Who the hell do you think you are? Barging in here and killing my man? Not exactly smart. This is my house. My _city_! Do you know who I am?"

"I know _exactly_ who you are, and you're nothing you claim to be."

"Stay back!" he warned again, holding out his hand. "This doesn't concern you. So scuttle on back to your precious Minutemen and play cops and robbers. Diamond City has no need for you."

"Oh, I beg to differ. I don't know how you managed to talk your way into office, but I think it's time for a re-election."

"Stay _back_!" he yelled, a profound fear surging through him.

"Stand down," she pressed. "If you don't, I _promise_ I'll kill you."

"K-kill--? I am the _mayor_!"

"Deputy mayor. Easily replaced."

"Fuck you! You think you can come in here and tell _me_ what to do?! You think you're the only one who's made something of yourself?! And why do you care about that whiny slug anyway?! He has nothing to do with you!"

"He's my friend," she wisped. "And more of a man than you'll ever be."

John seized, gritting his teeth, a blind fury erupting inside him. He had never been questioned or insulted in such a personal manner. Being compared to Ed-- and in a negative way-- and being told he couldn't measure up, made his blood boil. The comment looped in his mind, along with the risk of losing Lydia. He'd been exposed, bested, and his whole world was coming apart. He stared at Keira, deciding she was solely to blame. If she hadn't saved Ed, if she hadn't interfered, everything would be perfect.

"Fuck you, bitch!"

He drew his gun and fired, missing completely. The bullet whipped past her hair, but she didn't retreat or show the faintest hint of fear. His rage brimming, he fired another, but she bowed just in time, throwing off his aim. As he lined the next shot, she dashed across the floor and grabbed his wrist, deftly avoiding the blast. Her speed sent shivers up his spine, and he knew he was about to feel the full force of her wrath. Before he could flee, she swung back her arm and drove her palm into his elbow. A loud snap filled the air, followed by John's agonized screams. As he fell back, she slid her fingers over the gun, affectively jerking it from his hand.

"You bitch! You bitch! You broke my arm! _Aughhh_!"

"I'm about to break more than that."

She let him writhe for a short while before kicking him square in the jaw. Blood spewed from his mouth as he turned over and attempted to crawl away; but she persisted, attacking him with sharp blows to the stomach. She was determined to make him feel what Ed felt, even if it was only a fraction of it. She knew she couldn't inflict the same amount of torment he'd caused, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to try.

John's body twisted and flexed, thrown into shock by the vicious assault. How many times she struck him was impossible to count, but it easily reached the double digits. He begged her to stop, but she lost all control-- or perhaps she simply didn't want to. She continued until John was nothing more than a husk, groaning and laying motionless on the floor. He held his wounds, his face swollen and purple. He wheezed loudly, slipping in and out of consciousness, and only then did Keira stop. She took a breath, worn down by her actions, then cocked the stolen colt.

"Call me a 'bitch' again," she dared. He didn't respond, just sobbed. "That's what I thought." She looked to Ed, who was still sitting against the table, then back at John. "You're nothing but a hypocrite. You dish out all this pain, but you can't handle being subjected to it. Typical." She gripped the gun and held it against his head, her finger twitching with zeal. "You're nothing but target practice."

" _Stop_!"

Keira paused as Lydia threw herself over John, blocking the shot. Tears streamed down her face as she stared up the barrel of the gun. Though devastated and clearly frightened, she bore a familiar look. It was the look of someone on a mission, of someone with a need to protect; a look Keira knew all too well. She ticked, annoyed by the intervention and Lydia's devotion, but remained clam.

"Stand aside."

"No! I won't let you kill him!"

"Even after everything he's done? After he tried to kill your husband?"

Lydia winced, looking back at Ed. He held his side, still wracked with pain, and she knew John would stop at nothing to see him dead. She could barely accept it, disgusted and horrified by what he'd done, but she couldn't reject it either. She knew he was capable of terrible things, but she never would have suspected murder. Not _Ed's_ murder, anyway. She sighed, feeling John tremble beneath her.

"What are you waiting for? I told you to move."

"I can't! He's still ... my brother!"

"Don't be an idiot. He tried to kill your husband!"

"Keira, please!" Ed chimed, limping towards them. "Stop pointing that thing at Lydia. Don't yell at her, _please_. I'm _begging_ you!"

Keira flinched, shocked by his candour, but tossed the weapon aside obligingly. Lydia puffed, sitting up, but she still covered John protectively. As she caught her breathe, still shaken, Ed tripped into Keira's arms. Lydia watched as she helped him up, letting him rest against her. John and Oscar's attack had left him weak and tender, but she was sure to be gentle.

"What do you want to do?" Keira asked, addressing both parties. "It's up to you."

Ed fell silent, staring at John and Lydia. The question was sudden, but welcome after all the chaos. He wasn't sure what to say or how to react, but Lydia seemed lost in thought. It was over. Everything was over. Her marriage, her life with Ed, even the delusion that they were happy. She sobbed, knowing Ed would never be safe in Diamond City, or anywhere John could reach.

"I know what _I_ want," she blubbered. "But I can't have it." She looked at her husband, as if it was the last time, and smiled. She couldn't imagine life without him, but she knew he was miserable. Even if John was the main cause of that, she had to choose between him and Ed; and her choice, for whatever reason, was clear. "Take him."

"What?"

"Take him away from here. As far away as you can."

Ed paled, his eyes losing their lustre. "W-wait. What?"

"You heard me, Ed. Go with her. Go to ... wherever you said you'd be happy and safe. Go ... without me." Ed shook his head, reaching out, but Lydia pulled away. "It's all right, sweetheart. I ... I think I've been waiting for something like this to happen. I know you're not happy with me."

"But I am!" he yelled, wincing at the lie.

"No, you're not. I know it. We've tried and tried for so long, but this is it. This is how it has to end." She sat up and caressed John's face, brushing his bruises. "He's my brother. He's flawed, but he loves me, and he's taken care of me since I was a child. He _needs_ me. I can't leave him ... but _you can_. Please, Ed. Just go." She sniffed, her cheeks wet with tears, but she smiled through the pain. "Please, Ed. Go. Be happy."

"Lydia ... you can't mean that. You can't stay here, not after all this! Please, _come with me_!"

"Keira? That's your name, right? Please ... take care of Ed. He's a big softie and a huge idiot, and he'll need your help out there."

She wavered, giving Lydia a chance to question her decision. "If you're sure this is what you want, then I promise."

"It is...."

"Lydia! I-I can't just--!"

Keira pulled his hand gently, holding him back. "Don't make this harder for her, Ed. Can't you see? She's letting you go."

Ed stuttered, at a loss for words. Lydia had never acted so selflessly. As he languished, Keira began leading him to the front of the house. He whimpered softly, pulling in protest, but not enough to make a difference. He wanted to leave, more than anything else in the world, but not alone.

"No. Lydia, I ... _I can't leave you here_!"

As they reached the door, a muffled laugh rose from Lydia's arms. To her amazement, John forced himself up, leaning against her for support. Ed cowered, seeing his vicious smile, but Keira turned him away, shielding him from the sight. Though Lydia begged him to stop, he grinned maliciously, his cruel voice carrying.

"You stupid waste of space. Do you really think you'll survive out there? Without _me_? I've provided for you since you darkened my doorway." He laughed again, though it was cut short by a painful grunt. "Dumb bitch. You broke my fucking jaw." He sat up, lightly pushing Lydia aside and leaning against the wall. "Lydia ... this is the best decision you've ever made."

"If that's how you feel, then please stop. They're leaving now, so please--"

"Oh, they're not leaving," he jeered, wiping his mouth. "You think I'm going to let them get away with this? Killing that little spaz would've been a mercy! But now I have to do it the hard way." He looked to Keira, who now stood in front of Ed. "Take him if you want, but you'll never be safe. I'm a powerful man, perhaps even more powerful than you realize. I'll hunt you down, Ed. I'll find you and I'll finish what I started. You and your Minuteman bitch."

Keira groaned and sat Ed back against the table. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"

"John! Just let them go! It's enough now! You've got what you wanted, so--!" Keira walked towards them, her eyes deadly. "No! Don't kill him! He didn't mean it!"

"Yes he did. But you don't have to worry. He's not worth the effort it would take to put him down."

John held his stomach and smiled malignly, compensating for his fear. "I mean it," he buzzed. "I'll find you. I'll find you and I'll _kill_ you for this!"

"Is that right? So you think Diamond City's politicians can take on all of Goodneighbor?"

"Goodneighbor?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah. There isn't a soul in the city who wouldn't fight for me. And that's based on loyalty-- something that can't be bought." John scoffed and tried to stand, but quickly succumbed to his injures. He stared into Keira's green, devilish eyes, his bravery failing. "What about the Minutemen? The Railroad? No? What about the Brotherhood?" He flinched at the name, discouraged. "Yeah. That's not exactly public knowledge, but I've done them some favours, too. You see, John, I _also_ have friends in high places, and they outnumber yours a hundred to one. So I'd think about that before spewing empty threats."

John growled, infuriated, but he knew he'd been beat. Exhausted, he hunched back, accepting his losses and surrendering to his pain. He could hardly breathe; his vision blurred and his strength waning. As soon as he stopped moving, Lydia ran to his side, touching his cheek.

"John! Is he--?!"

"Unfortunately, he'll survive. Just give him a few stims and he'll be back on his feet in no time." She chuckled to herself as she stood. "Though, there may be some lingering damage to his arm. Not sure that'll ever _completely_ heal. Heh."

"Thank you ... for not killing him."

"Yeah, well, if he comes after us _I will_. Mark my words." She scratched her nose and looked to Ed, giving him a reassuring nod. "But I don't think there's any chance of that. He's done."

"But, h-how do you know he--?"

"I just know. Not that it really matters. Where I'm taking you, he has no influence." Ed gulped, still uncertain, but relaxed when Keira grabbed his hand. "Come on. It's time to go." She tried walking him to the door, but he resisted, staring at Lydia. Keira could see his doubt, and as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn't force him to leave. "This _is_ what you want, right?"

A long, unbearable silence ensued.

"Yes...."

"Okay, then."

She held his fingers firmly, resuming her steps. Ed followed, but watched as Lydia wept, overwhelmed with grief and heartbreak. It killed him to see her like that, but she'd made her choice, just as he'd made his. When they reached the frame, however, he pulled back, needing one last speck of closure.

"W-wait! Lydia ... can I ... at least say goodbye?"

Keira turned to him with a nod, releasing his hand. When free, he ran across the room, pulling Lydia into his arms and crying loudly. She did the same, squeezing him hard but avoiding his injury. Still, the force of her hug travelled down and stung him, causing him to groan. Sensing his pain, she immediately repositioned her arms, clinging to his shoulders.

"I'm sorry!" she choked, brimming with guilt.

"It's okay. It was an accident."

"Not _just_ for that. Ed, I--" She trailed off, looking into his eyes, full of hurt and regret. She bit her lip, feeling her emotions stir, but she couldn't let him leave without confessing. "I'm sorry for everything!" she shirked. "I'm sorry for how I treated you! I'm sorry for all the times I yelled at you! I'm sorry for John! I ... I--!" 

Ed closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. As he sobbed, he took Lydia's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, like he always did when she was sad. She sighed at the contact, holding his hands and drowning in his embrace. She didn't expect it, certain this was the end of their time; but he lifted her chin and kissed her lips, holding her tightly. At that moment, everything faded. John, Keira, all the hardships they'd suffered. Only she and Ed existed, lost in a utopia that could never be.

He pulled away all too soon, leaving Lydia weak and wanting. For the first time in ages, she felt warm and contented. She knew it would only last a moment, but she would hold onto it for the rest of her life. She blushed, touching her lips as Ed leaned in, bringing his mouth to her ear.

"I'll always love you."

She gasped, her eyes heavy as she stared at him one last time. "I'll always love you, too." Her words were breathless, barely a whisper, but she knew he understood. "But now .. you have to go."

He sniffed, taking his time, then turned to Keira. She could see his body trembling, on the verge of collapse. Worried, she held out her hand, giving him something to cling to. As she helped him hobble to the door, she looked to Lydia and bowed her head respectfully.

Not another word was spoken, and Ed never looked back, afraid he'd break if he did. He simply shut down, letting Keira lead the way. Before he knew it, he was outside, the door closing quietly behind him. Though soft, the sound made him flinch; but he was soothed by the feel of Keira's hand on his back, rubbing gently above his wound.

"It's okay, Ed. You're okay." She smiled and wrapped her arm around his. "Come on. Let's get you out of this place."


	6. Old Fears, New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed is now free, but he struggles with leaving Lydia behind. As he begins a new chapter in his life, he must learn to leave the old world behind him.

Ed walked in silence, facing the dirt. He kept looking up at Keira, who walked too fast for his liking. She had let go of his hand, and he didn't argue but he missed the comfort. He reached out repeatedly, stopping when he got too close. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch her, but it was torture not to. He needed to feel something. He needed assurance. He needed warmth. He kept hearing Lydia's voice and harking back to a time when they were happy, and his mind shattered. He couldn't believe he left her behind.

Soon the memories were poisoned with years of John's cruelty. He stressed how useless Ed was, how unworthy, how miserable he made Lydia-- and for the first time in his life, Ed believed it. He turned back, facing the city, his knees shaking. He'd never see her again. He'd never see _anyone_ again. Vadim, Travis, Scarlett, Cheng; all the people he had come to love and care for. His ears popped as the doors receded into the background, darkness obstructing his view.

"How's your wound?" Keira asked, breaking the silence.

" _Huh_?" Ed squeaked, paralysed.

"Your wound. How is it?" Her voice pulled him back, but he didn't respond. "Ed? Your wound. How is it?"

"O-oh, it ... hurts."

"How bad?"

"What?"

" _How bad_?" She groaned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Jesus, you okay?"

"Y-yeah..." he breathed, his eyes wondering.

"You sure? You're kind of pale." He didn't answer, only nodded, to which Keira shrugged and dropped her backpack to the ground. "It's gonna take us a while to reach our destination, so if you need medicine or something for the pain, you need to tell me. Communication is key out here."

Ed swallowed, watching as the dirt blew past his feet. His head hung low, tears welling in his eyes. He tried to fight it, but he couldn't ignore the storm of emotions inside him. A blend of liberation and sorrow took over, forcing him to his knees. He cried out, bending down and clutching his fists, his forehead pushing into the soil. Keira nearly jumped seeing him break and shatter before her, but she kept calm. The fit was unexpected, but she tried her best to discern it.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ed covered his mouth, muffling his cries, his eyes squinted shut. "Ed? What is it? What's wrong with you?" She bent down and carefully rubbed his back. "Hey, come on. Say something. I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I ... I can't leave Lydia!" he choked. "It's not right! _This isn't right_!"

"Oh. I see." Keira cleared her throat, slightly relieved, then pulled him up. He grunted in protest, his wound angry, so she sat him against a rock to rest. "Just breathe. Slow, steady breaths. Take it easy."

She coached him through his panic, matching his gasps and gradually bringing him down. She could tell he was overwhelmed, but she kept him calm. She held his hand, letting him squeeze hers tightly for purchase, and brushed back his hair. His outburst ended with silence, but he continued to cry, still out of control.

"Ed, listen to me very carefully. Staying back there was _her_ choice, not yours. She wanted to stay, and she wanted you to leave."

"But, John--!"

"Won't hurt her. He loves her too much." She curled her lip at the suggestion. "It's a fuckin' _weird_ love ... but it's love, I guess. Enough to keep her safe, anyway."

"But he's psychotic!"

"And she knows that now. In fact, she probably always has. But she chose to stay, and there's nothing you can do about it. You _had_ to leave, but you haven't done anything wrong, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it."

"But Lydia--!"

"You can't help people who don't want it, Ed. Believe me, I know. Even if it's not their fault, there's nothing you can do." She stood, walking around him and lifting his shirt. "It's a concept I've always struggled with, personally. All they have to do is say 'help me', and it could be over. But it's never that simple. They just keep making excuses and living in denial." She rummaged through her backpack, finding her med kit. "This looks nasty. You should've seen a doctor the day it happened."

"But I--"

"Didn't want anyone to know, I know." She sighed and gabbed a cloth, soaking it with purified water and making a cold compress. "This'll bring down the swelling." She placed it against the bruise, causing Ed to arch and moan. "Easy. Just bear with it." Next came a large wrap, which she tied around his waist to hold the cloth in place. "That should hold 'til we get to Goodneighbor. That, and--" She reached into the kit and grabbed a syringe of Med-X. Ed flinched slightly, pulling away. "Oh, God. Don't tell me you're afraid of needles, too." She sighed, holding him still. "I'll be gentle, okay? I promise, you'll only feel a prick."

"What's it for?"

"The pain. And it'll help you heal faster, too. I'd give you a stim, but I only have one left and I want to save it in case we run into trouble."

Ed wiped his eyes, sniffing as she poked the needle through the bandage. He cringed, the sharp point stinging his wound. He groaned painfully, but it truly wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. Perhaps it hurt more than usual because of the injury, but the medicine acted quickly and left him feeling light and deadened.

"Sorry," she said, tossing it back into the kit. "But it's over now. That should last a few hours."

"Where'd you learn to do all of this?" Keira paused, hiding under her bangs. "Keira?" he asked again, not realizing the subject was delicate.

"My husband." She closed her supplies and slipped the pack back over her shoulder.

"Oh. Oh, Keira ... I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she shrugged, helping him to his feet. "Enough with the drama. Let's get moving. It's not safe to stay in one place for too long."

Ed stood, looking back at the city once more. "Keira, if Lydia ever decides she wants to leave--"

"I made a promise, didn't I? If that day comes, I'll help her. But right now, _you're_ my top priority." She took his hand, giving him that small comfort he needed. "So come on. Let's get you to Goodneighbor."

Ed nodded, letting her lead the way. His eyes remained fixed on the city, but the smaller it grew, the less frantic he became. Keira said exactly what he needed to hear, and he believed she meant it. It had been a long time since he trusted someone, but despite losing everything, he felt at ease. He felt protected. He felt free. When they turned the corner the city vanished, lost from Ed's sight, and that's when Keira's words finally processed. He gripped her hand, visibly puzzled.

"Wait. _Goodneighbor_?"

***

The trip seemed long, but Keira got Ed to the city safely, just as promised. The look and feel of it frightened him, but Keira assured him he was welcome. He wasn't ready for conversation, so he let Keira do most of the talking as they entered the gates. A ghoul and a robot, named Daisy and KL-E-0, were the first to approach, but Keira could sense Ed's discomfort and kept the introductions brief. They were both tired, so she politely cut the banter short and rushed to the Old State House, spouting words of encouragement along the way.

Ed was shocked to see such a large building still intact and powered. Since leaving the vault, he'd been spoon-fed the idea that Diamond City was the _only_ civilized, safe, and highly populated area. Everywhere else was considered a danger and something to avoid. He never questioned that sentiment, until now. Looking around, Goodneighbor didn't seem like a paradise; in fact, it he saw plenty of room for improvement, but it wasn't the wreck John made it out to be. He wouldn't call it "friendly", or even "home", but without John there, it was a start.

"Is that my Reaper?" a voice called.

A profound smile filled Keira's face as she ran through the lobby and into the arms of a ghoul. He responded with a husky laugh and spun her around, clearly happy to see her. Ed watched, unsure how to proceed as the man kissed her forehead and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he said must have been funny, because Keira echoed a laugh down the hall.

"Come on over!" she yelled, waving him down. Ed blushed and made his way to both of them, stiffening when the ghoul looked his way. "Hancock, this is Ed. He's a friend of mine and he needs a place to stay."

"Ed, huh? The one ya told me about?"

Ed shot her a baffled glare. "The one you ... what?"

"I may have mentioned you once or twice."

The ghoul sniggered, offering his hand. "As she said, the name's Hancock. Nice to meet ya."

"Just 'Hancock'?" Ed asked, nervously extending his arm.

"Well, that's what everyone calls me. First name's 'John'."

Ed paled, impaired by the name. He began to tremble as memories of his past life invaded. Was he really safe there? Did he really make the right decision? His doubt augmented with each passing second. What if this was worse? What if John retaliated and sent someone after him? What if the nightmare wasn't over? What if it was just beginning? What if--?

A gentle hand gripped his fingers, pulling him out of his daze. "It's okay," Keira eased, her smile comforting.

"Yeah," Hancock chuckled. "It's okay. I may be a ghoul, but I don't bite."

"N-no, that's not what I--!"

Keira shook her head. "Don't think he's too fond of your name, is all."

"That so? Well, don't worry about it too much, freckles."

"F-freckles?"

Yeah. I'm not too fond of the name either. That's why it's 'Hancock'. Just 'Hancock'."

Ed's cheeks blazed as he grabbed the mayor's hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm Edward! Oh, b-but ... everyone calls me 'Ed'. O-oh, but ... K-K-Keira already told you that. It's n-nice to meet you!"

"Ed..." Hancock breathed, patting his shoulder. "Calm down. I was just screwin' with ya." He turned to Keira with a grin. "Damn, sister. What've ya brought to my doorstep? Guy's jumpier than a mole rat on hot coals."

"He's a vaultie, like me. He needs someone to look out for him. Maybe show him the ropes?"

"No problem there." He met Ed's eyes with a welcoming smile. "Don't worry, freckles. We'll take care 'a ya. Everyone's welcome in Goodneighbor."

Ed blushed again and stared at Hancock's hand. There was something soothing about his rough skin against his. Something kind and endearing. Something that made the whole trip worth it. He gulped loudly, hiding his disappointment when Hancock pulled away.

"So, ya gonna take off again?" he asked, addressing Keira. Ed shot her a nervous glance, thrown by the question. "She doesn't tend to stay in one place for long, is all. Of course, I can't really blame 'er. Bein' the leader of the Minutemen and shit? It really keeps her on 'er toes."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind staying for a few days, if it's all right with you. I have a few things to sort out with Daisy and the caravans, and I'd like to see how Ed settles in." Ed wheezed at the response, and Keira punched his arm affectionately. "What? You didn't think I'd just drop you here and take off, did you?"

"I, uh--"

"Sounds like a plan," Hancock rasped. "As always, you're welcome to stay here in the estate. And as for your friend..." he said, cupping his chin. "Give 'im the room next to yours. It's empty, right?"

"That'll do. It's a nice little space and I think he'll be comfortable there."

"Can't see why he wouldn't be, what with that new radio installed. Catches almost every station. Which reminds me, have ya checked on Outpost Zimonja? They went quiet and I'm kinda worried."

"Yep. Checked it out a few days ago. Everything's fine. They had a run-in with some raiders, but Al and the rest of them were able to--"

Ed stood in silence, a peaceful smile filling his face. He was touched by their kindness, and he knew he'd never be able to repay it. He was exhausted and he wanted to sleep, but he was contented to watch them talk. He didn't understand their conversation, but it didn't matter. He'd never seen Keira so casual, and he'd never heard such a sweet and soothing voice from a ghoul. Living in Diamond City, he never met very many; just a few who stopped by with the caravans.

"Hey, freckles. You okay? We borin' ya?"

Ed flinched, shaking his head. "N-no! Not at all."

"He's tired. We both are. Can we pick this up tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, Reap. You wanna show him the rooms, or should I?"

"It's on my way. I'll do it."

"Doesn't make me look like a very good host," Hancock grinned, leaning back.

"You can be all hospitable tomorrow. Tonight, let me show him around." She put a hand on Ed's back, avoiding his wound. "Oh, right. Do you have any stims on hand?"

"You hurt?" Hancock asked, his expression turning anxious.

"Not me."

He raised a brow, looking to Ed. "Freckles? What's wrong?"

"Oh, I uh ... nothing much. I just ... hurt my back."

" _Humph_. Yeah, I got some." He walked to a small end table and pulled a med kit from the drawer. "Make sure ya replace it," he said, tossing it to Keira. "As you know, that stuff's for my guards."

"No problem. I'm going to buy supplies from Daisy tomorrow. Consider it an overnight loan."

"Right. You get some sleep, then. Talk to ya tomorrow."

Keira nodded and led Ed to a winding staircase. He tried to thank the oddly-dressed mayor, but he didn't have time. Keira moved too quickly, as usual, and Ed refused to fall behind. Hancock watched with a smile, diving into his pocket for a cigarette. He lit it quickly and slumped against the wall, keeping his chuckles quiet. He found the sight of Ed fumbling up the steps amusing. He'd never seen such a pitiful man, but he knew from first glance that he liked him.

"Hey, Keira!" he yelled, before they crossed the hall.

"What is it?"/p>

His smile disappeared, his face deadly. "Whoever hurt him, I hope ya pissed on their corpse."

Ed cringed, gripping the railing. He didn't know why the comment riled him, but it did. He couldn't think of a response and turned to Hancock, but found himself completely speechless. There was something more there. Something other than fear or a wish for privacy. His stomach clenched as something inside him burst, and it felt warm and gracious. He could tell from the look in his eyes: this ghoul _cared_ about him. This ghoul, who he'd only just met, was angered by the idea the he'd been hurt. He bit his lip, hands shaking, but Keira quickly broke the silence.

"Aw, you know better than that, Hancock. Standing to pee isn't exactly a woman's forte. But I can assure you, I didn't leave him in one piece."

"But ya left him _alive_?!"

"Wasn't my choice," she stressed. "Not yours either. Let's just leave it at that. Right, Ed?"

He nodded his head, complacently. "Please?"

Hancock shrugged, taking a long puff of his smoke. "You don't need to beg me, freckles. I'll drop it, if you want me to."

"I, uh ... I'm just really tired. Can we maybe talk about it tomorrow?"

"Hey, I'm an easygoin' ghoul. You don't have to tell me anything, if ya don't wanna."

"But ... I can stay?"

"Hell yeah, you can stay!" He spread his arms graciously. "Welcome to Goodneighbor! Home of the misfits, downtrodden, and occasional enigmas." He winked at Keira. "Your past is your own damn business. Unless you wanna share it. If not, I ain't gonna hassle ya. That's how things work around here."

Ed smiled and ducked back, hiding from his draw. "Thanks, Hancock."

***

The room wasn't far down the hall, and it had clearly been recently added. Ed stepped inside, but slowly, as if unwelcome. This was _his_ room now; something he could call his own. He never had that. Even with Lydia, who was supposed to be his, was shared with John. The house in Diamond City was owned by John, supplied by John, _controlled_ by John. Anything he had in life could never truly be called _his_. It felt strange being given a room. It was small and decrepit, but refurbished to the best of its ability, its quaintness oddly appealing.

"You like it?" Keira asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"I love it."

Keira considered comparing it to his old home, but decided against it, afraid to trigger another fit. She knew it wasn't pristine or anything like he was used to, but he seemed delighted. He spun about, inspecting every nook and cranny with a childlike fascination. Perhaps he didn't notice the twinkle in his eye, or the smile stretched across his face, but Keira found it invigorating. Since their trip began, it was the first time he looked truly happy.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, meeting him in the centre.

"No, not really. Haven't had much of an appetite lately."

"That so? We'll have to change that. We'll start with a good breakfast, tomorrow at sunrise. Or whenever you wake up, I guess."

Ed chuckled as his cheeks glowed. "Keira, I wanted to thank--"

"Stop right there," she inflected, firmly. "I know you're about to shower me with praise, but I don't need it. Honestly, I've never been all that good at accepting compliments. And the decision to leave was all your--"

Ed's arms wrapped around hers suddenly, and she stood straight, hands at her sides as he pulled her into his chest. She fell silent, a pink streak forming across her nose and face. She didn't hug him back, but she didn't fight him either.

"Thank you, Keira. _Thank you_."

"N-no problem."

The embrace lasted longer than anticipated, but she never complained or pulled away. She wasn't prone to hugs or touching; in fact, she rarely allowed it, but for Ed she made an exception. She held still, giving him whatever he needed-- whatever this was. She could feel him smiling against her skin, and although she wasn't sure how to retaliate, she did eventually pat his shoulder.

When he finally pulled away and she saw his face, his joy and gratitude apparent, she couldn't help but shy away. "So, Hancock ... one hell of a guy, huh?"

"Y-yeah, he is," Ed stuttered, the moment gone. For some reason, he was remarkably rapt by that ghoul. "So, he's the mayor?"

"Runs and owns this whole town. If I'm not around, he's the person to go to. And don't let the tough-guy act fool you. He's, uh...."

"A softie?"

"No, he _is_ a tough-guy, but he also has a heart. He _cares_ about his people. Honestly, he's a rare breed out here, and he'll be a good friend."

"How long have you known him?"

"Since not long after I thawed, actually. Look, I'm not asking you to trust him implicitly. Not before you get to know him yourself, that is. Trust is earned, but I want you to know that I trust him with my life. I promise he's a good guy. You have nothing to worry about here. Well, except maybe the occasional thug, but we'll show you how to deal with that. And everyone else is really nice, too. Daisy, KL-E-0, Fahrenheit. Oh, and _Kent_! He's kind of like you, actually. A timid man with a heart of gold. Pretty sure he was a redhead, too. I think you'll get along."

"Thank you," Ed pressed, fiddling with his fingers. "Thank you for everything."

"Like I said, it's no problem. But I meant what I said. I won't be here everyday, so stick with Hancock. He'll be good for you."

Ed giggled, veiling his fright. He knew it would be a while before she left, but it worried him. He'd gotten used to relying on her, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle Goodneighbor or the Commonwealth without her. She, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit daunted; and that's when he realized that her confidence in him was almost piously high.

"Why did he call you 'Reaper'?" Ed asked, changing the subject.

Keira shrugged languidly. "Because I like to depend on stealth and strike when you least expect it? Kind of like I did back in Diamond City."

"I certainly didn't see that coming."

"Well, good. Means I did my job," she laughed. "Listen, I haven't had a proper rest in days, so I'm gonna head to bed. You try and get some sleep, too. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

She turned and started for the door, but before she got too far Ed grabbed her hand unexpectedly. He gripped her fingers tightly, holding her in place. Keira couldn't help but frown at the action, but settled when she met his eyes. He looked surprised himself, and he released her immediately, spouting the sincerest apology.

"It's okay. Just ... what was _that_ about?"

Ed blushed, clutching his wrist in embarrassment. "Will you ... stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?"

Keira crossed her arms, somewhat miffed by the request. "You'll be fine on your own, Ed. No one here's gonna hurt you, and there's a lock on the door. You just have to latch the--"

" _Please_?" he wisped, his eyes heavy. He looked away, his brows arched and trembling. "This is the first night ... in years ... without Lydia. I-I don't know this place ... and I don't ... want to be alone."

Keira sighed and pulled the med kit from her pocket. With a gesture, she sat Ed on the bed and stuck him with the stim. He let out a soft groan, but he'd somehow grown used to the irritating sting. As the medicine began to work, Keira rolled down his sleeve and placed the kit on the nightstand, then reached into her backpack and grabbed a black hat that matched her outfit. With a yawn, she covered her head and sat down, leaning against the bed.

"Go to sleep," she said, without a hint of angst or frustration. "I'll be right here. But tomorrow, you sleep on your own. You have to get used to this place. After all, it's your new home."

Ed flinched at the thought. He wasn't thrilled by the idea, but he wasn't opposed to it either. Being without Lydia left him empty, terrified; but a world without John almost outweighed that loss. He hated himself for thinking that way, but the feeling was undeniable. He laid back, no longer bothered by his wound, and watched as Keira tipped her hat and hid under the rim.

"You gonna sleep on the floor?" Ed asked, concerned. "You'll catch a cold."

"I'm hardly that fragile. I've slept in worse places, believe me. And I sleep on the ground all the time."

"But--"

It's fine, really. _If_ I fall asleep before you, I'll probably wake up in a few hours and go to my own room, anyway. Just get some rest, okay?"

"If you want, you can have the bed. Or we can share--"

"Don't push it," Keira huffed, yawning once again. "I mean it, go to sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow, if I'm going to show you around."

"O-okay. Goodnight."

He laid back, rolling onto his side and squirming under the sheets. With a diffident frown, he gripped his pillow and watched as Keira turned off the lamp. Once shrouded in darkness he began to weep, exhausted and relieved, but still missing Lydia. He clutched a bit harder, trying not to drown in his sorrow. He'd never see her again. He knew that the moment he stepped outside, but now that things were dim and silent he couldn't help but cry.

A warm hand slipped onto the mattress and touched his, making him shudder. It took him by surprise, but he held it close, squeezing tightly and wheezing until his tears were spent. He sniffed softly, his eyes closing as his consciousness began to fade.

"Keira?" he whispered, unsure if she was still awake. "Thank you."

Soon the room echoed with Ed's fleeting snores, and to that Keira lifted her head. His fingers loosened with the sound, falling out of hers and sliding down the silk. Free from his grasp, Keira stood, arms crossed as she watched him sleep. After a while she knew; no way was he waking up, not for hours. A hushed chuckle escaped her lips as she turned away, but not before taking notice of his peaceful smile.

"Jeez, Ed. You really are ... a total dork."


	7. New Look, New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira returns to Goodneighbor after an extended period of time and finds that Ed has greatly developed.

Kent held up the Shroud's jacket like a prize, humming subconsciously. Seeing how excited it made him was rewarding, in its own way. It wasn't a secret that Keira had a soft spot for the old ghoul, and she was always happy to visit. She hadn't seen him, or anyone from Goodneighbor, in over four months; so being with someone she considered a friend was a welcome change from wandering the wasteland alone.

"I didn't think it was possible to upgrade it further," she said, tapping her arm.

"I found some new high-grade ballistic weave polymer. By the time I'm finished with it, it'll be able to shield you from most ammunition, including those from energy weapons."

Keira smiled, flicking his hat. "That's amazing. Thanks, Kent. Take your time, okay? I don't have anywhere to be right now."

"Say, why _have_ you been gone so long?"

"I went to visit a place called Far Harbor. It was an ... interesting experience."

"You're okay, right?" he asked, gripping the coat worriedly.

"Everything went fine, Kent. Don't worry. With _your_ upgrades, it's easy to forget I'm not invincible."

Kent blushed, turning back on his chair. "It's good to see you again, Shroud. It really is. I'll get to work on this right away!"

"You need the pants, too? And the scarf?"

"Yeah, everything. I can upgrade all of it. I can even add steel to the boots, if you want."

"Sounds good to me."

"Great! Go get changed and leave your clothes with Irma. I'll get to them as soon as I'm finished with the coat. I'd love to keep chatting, but it's hard to concentrate on conversation and innovation."

Keira laughed, heading for the door. "It's okay, Kent. We'll have plenty of time to catch up when you're done."

"We can play cards with the girls tonight, if you'd like!"

"I would."

"Great! And if they're not too busy, maybe Ed and Hancock can join us?"

Keira nodded, stopping at the archway. "I was just gonna go to see them. I came straight here when I heard your broadcast, so I haven't said hi yet. How _is_ Ed, by the way? I'll admit, I was a bit uneasy about being away for so long."

"Oh, he's doing great! It's hard to believe it's only been six months since you brought him here. Feels like years."

"What do you mean by that?"

Kent giggled, covering his mouth with a childish fervour. "You'll see."

***

Keira left the Den in a shaggy-cloth outfit, as she usually did when her armour was being upgraded. She couldn't help but smirk, amused by the fact that Irma had offered her a dress. She _always_ offered, and Keira always declined. It had become a game to them, with Irma vowing to one day get Keira decked in the most stupendous dress she owned; but Keira would never let that happen. She hated dresses. She hadn't worn one since childhood. Though she _did_ have to chuckle at Irma's tenacity. That woman was a force of nature, and Keira wondered how Ed had been getting along with her. When they first met he seemed a little intimidated, but surely they had connected since then.

Feeling the wind in her hair, Keira felt enticed to pinch her bangs. It had been a while since she received a haircut and the length was becoming bothersome. As she made her way from the Den to the alley, she decided she'd get Daisy to cut it back to it's preferred shortness. After paying Ed and Hancock a visit, that is. The day had been long and her trip exhausting, but she knew she could rest in their company.

Before long, she found herself just outside the old estate house, a certain fondness striking her. Even though they sometimes scuffled, she considered Hancock family. Like a little brother. She was always happy to see him, but this time her thoughts were with Ed. She knew, more than likely, that he'd be hurt by her extended absence; especially since she told him she'd only be gone a month at most.

With a heavy sigh, she brushed back her hair and headed for the entrance. She wasn't sure what to say, but she was certain Ed would be happy to see her. Possibly upset, but definitely happy.

"Hey, there!" a raspy voice suddenly called. Keira turned before reaching the door, seeing a tall, dishevelled man behind her. "What's a nice girl like you doin' in this neighbourhood?"

"Excuse me?" Her response was solemn, bare. From first glance, she knew he was going to be trouble.

"'Excuse me'?" he mocked, hiding a laugh. "Aw, so polite. Polite little girls like you could get hurt around here. But I might be willing to help ya out." Keira rolled her eyes, stepping away, but the man grabbed her arm and pulled forcefully. "Like I said, it's _dangerous_ here. You might need protection. And wouldn't ya know it, my services happen to be for sale!"

Keira sneered and reached for her waist, feeling the hammer of her gun. Her eyes turned dark as she prepared to grab the weapon, annoyed. She jerked her arm away, causing the man to stumble forward with a loud grunt. He wasn't expecting her to fight back, and he retaliated with a roar of profanity and insults. Again he tried for her wrist, but the attempt was severed with the sound of a loud, booming voice.

"Hey, you! Ronan, isn't it?"

The man turned, seeing another man of equal stature standing a few feet behind him. He wore a dark leather jacket and a modified baseball bat on his back. He looked angry, but confident; intent on protecting Keira from her assailant. It took her a few seconds to realize, but she knew the voice. She knew the outline. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus through the shadows.

And that's when she realized: it was Ed!

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, folding his arms. "Well? Is your name Ronan or not?"

"Yeah, what of it?" the man snapped, turning his back. Keira rested her hand on her pistol, but elected to let Ed handle the situation. "Well, whaddya want? Ya got some kinda death wish or somethin'?"

"Was about t'ask _you_ the same question. This is Goodneighbor, and that ain't how you treat people."

"Hey, I wasn't doin' anything to her. Just finishin' up a quick transaction. Ain't that right, sweetheart?" Keira said nothing, watching cautiously. "She ain't the talkative type, I guess. But look, don't get in the way of my business, pal. You'll take a hike, if you know what's good for ya."

"You've got this backwards, 'pal'. The only one who'll be leavin' here is _you_. 'Course, whether or not that's in a body bag is your decision. So what's it gonna be, 'pal'? You gonna leave on your own, or do things have t'get messy?"

Ronan laughed, pulling a combat knife from his boot. "Had about enough of your bullshit! Gonna be a right pleasure guttin' ya, boy!"

He lunged at Ed suddenly, flailing his knife, but missed completely as Ed shifted sideways. In an instant he grabbed Ronan's wrist and twisted it-- just the way Keira taught him-- and locked his arm behind his back. The man screamed, dropping his weapon and grabbing his shoulder in agony, but he couldn't break free. He pulled over and over, only working to injure himself further, while Ed grinned, making the whole act seem effortless.

Keira felt a hint of pride as Ed held his ground, but she was also shocked when Ed delivered a swift kick to Ronan's back, sending him flying into the wall. The man coughed and rolled over, gasping for air, but held his breath when Ed grabbed his bat and prepared to swing. The conman gasped and closed his eyes, fearing the final blow, but nothing happened. It felt like an eternity past before he worked up the courage to look again, and when he did he cringed, seeing the bat hovering mere centimetres from his face. In a panic, he pressed his body into the bricks, terrified, still certain that Ed would kill him; but to his surprise the redheaded man simply smiled and backed away.

"Man, aren't you lucky?"

Ronan quivered, afraid to speak. "Wh-what? Whaddya mean 'lucky'?"

"That _I'm_ the one who caught ya! Hancock ain't too fond of extortionists."

"H-Hancock? You're with the mayor?!"

"That's right. And like I said, he don't take kindly t'this shit." Ed grinned, slamming the bat down between Ronan's legs. "The last guy who tried t'pull this shit got sliced up, but good. So when I say you're lucky _I_ found ya, I mean it. Hancock would've performed an autopsy on your ass." Ronan trembled and attempted to sleek away, but Ed halted his effort and leaned in, his expression murderous. "So here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna apologize to the nice lady here. Then, you're gonna leave Goodneighbor, forever. You're never gonna show your face in this town again, right?"

"Y-yeah! Of course! I'll never show my face here again!"

"Good! 'Cause if ya do, Hancock'll slice it off." He reached down and walked his fingers from Ronan's chin and up to his forehead. "One. Little. Piece. At a time."

The man screamed and stumbled to his feet, working his leg around the bat. He tripped backwards, afraid to take his eyes off of Ed, even though he was determined to leave town as soon as possible. He managed to make a few feet before Ed ordered him to stop, and he froze in compliance, afraid to breathe.

"Y-y-yeah?"

Ed beamed spitefully. "You forgot to apologize."

Ronan faced Keira and bowed his head, traumatized. "S-sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"You say that now, but you better hope I don't catch you pulling the same shit out in the Commonwealth." She flipped her coat, revealing her silver gun. "I'm not the easy target you mistook me for. You are indeed ... _very_ lucky."

Ed cocked a brow, recognizing the pistol. He almost didn't hear Ronan scream and sprint for the gates. A warm feeling swirled inside him as he approached the woman, carefully studying her face. She wasn't wearing her armour and her hair was slightly longer, but there was no doubt in his mind. He knew who she was.

"Keira?"

"Hi, Ed."

"Keira!" He dropped his bat and ran towards her, then pulled her into his arms and lifted her off the ground. Keira clutched his shirt, shocked as he spun her around in a tight hug. "Where've ya been? I missed you!"

"P-put me down and I'll tell you!"

Ed flinched and quickly set her on the ground. "Sorry. Guess I don't know my own strength." He looked to the gates, catching one last glimpse of Ronan before he bolted into the wasteland. "And I guess you didn't need savin' either. Now I'm kinda embarrassed."

"You didn't know it was me?"

He shook his head, blushing. "Even more embarrassing, huh? I couldn't see your face, and you're not wearin' your armour."

"I took it to Kent's. He called me in for an upgrade. I was actually just on my way to visit you."

"Really?!" His smile widened. "Ah, well ... I'm sorry you ran into that piece 'a shit. T'think he tried to hustle _you_ ," he laughed. "Sorry. I guess I got in the way, huh? You could've taken that guy apart."

"No, you did great, Ed. Don't belittle yourself, and don't apologize either. If I had been anyone else that man might've hurt me. Or worse. What you did was brave _and_ heroic."

"Aw, shucks." Ed blushed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly, I'm surprised it even worked. It was mostly just talk. Hancock says guys like that are usually cowards."

"You sound a lot like him," she quipped, poking his arm. "Picked up some of his broken English, huh? You're slurring your words more than usual.

Ed gulped, turning redder. "Y-yeah? Ya think? Well, it's hard bein' around the guy without pickin' up a few habits."

"You look different, too."

Ed grinned, flexing his arm proudly. "Do I? _Hmm_ , I wonder why. What could it be?"

Keira tilted her head, then cocked a twisted smile. "That's it, now I see it! Your sideburns are fluffier!"

"My ... sideburns?" His shoulders hunched, shattered by the comment.

"Yeah. They weren't as fluffy the last time I saw you."

"Wha--? M-my ... _sideburns_?!" He touched his cheek, concealing a smile as he rubbed his hand up the hairs. "You've been gone for four months. _Four_! And all you notice are my _sideburns_?!"

Keira let out a soft chuckled. She couldn't help teasing him. She needed a good laugh, and Ed was only too happy to encourage it. After some time she relaxed, her calm demeanour brimming, though her smile never faded.

"You look good, Ed. Really."

Ed smiled at the compliment, his expression returning to the gentle face Keira remembered. Perhaps he hadn't changed too much, but the difference was there. The kind, innocent soul Keira first met still shined brightly; but there was more to him now. He looked stronger, healthier.

"You look ... happy."

Ed blushed, shyly twirling his fingers. "I _am_ happy. And really, it's all thanks to you."

"No," Keira whispered, patting his arm. "It's thanks to _you_. You made the decision to leave on your own. I didn't force you. I just gave you a small push, to help get your head in gear."

"Heh, heh. Well, thank you for _that_ , then. Really, I mean it."

"You're welcome."

Ed giggled, but soon met her eyes with a serious glare. "How's Lydia? Have you ... seen her lately?"

Keira took a moment before answering. She wasn't surprised that he asked; he always asked, but it _was_ a little abrupt. It dawned on her that as long as he'd been worrying about her, he was worrying about Lydia, too. Four months without a clue, without an inkling of her well-being. It must have killed him. Yet, Keira smiled, impressed that it didn't coax him into leaving.

"Not lately," she said, slaking his curiosity. "But the last time I visited Diamond City, she seemed fine. She usually tries to avoid me, but we ran into each other in the marketplace. She asked about you, too."

"What did you say?" he asked, engrossed.

I told her you were safe and happy, and that sequentially seemed to make her happy. So you could say--"

"But she still won't leave?" he urged, his pain evident.

Keira shook her head. "Sorry, Ed. Maybe some day, though. Like I said, all she has to do is ask."

"Then I guess that's all there is to it." He fell silent, his eyes travelling to the old estate. "Hey, why don't you come inside? Hancock'll be thrilled t'see ya!"

"Likewise. Actually, I wanted to discuss something with him. And I am pretty tired. If possible, I'd like to rest up for tonight."

"What's tonight?"

"Kent and the girls want to get together for a game. Sound like something you'd be interested in?"

"Of course!" Ed yelled, ecstatic. "Feels like forever since we've all gotten together! And you can tell me all about your trip. I ... _we_ ... were all kinda worried. I know you can handle yourself, but...."

"Thanks, Ed. I'm okay. And yeah, I'll tell you all about it when we get inside."

Ed smiled and stepped closer, then wrapped his arms around her once more. "I know you ain't fond of hugs, but ... it really is good t'see ya."

"Yeah." Keira sighed, and to Ed's surprise, gently hugged him back. "It's good to see you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> A very special thank you to alls-well-in-the-wasteland for inspiring this story! Please be sure to support her on Tumblr at: http://alls-well-in-the-wasteland.tumblr.com/


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